


House away from Home

by SirSirWolficus



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, April's farm house, Autistic Michelangelo, Autistic Mikey, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, HONESTLY u can read it as mikey/woody if you wanted to, Hurt/Comfort, I love him y'all but the way he treated mikey?? not okay i don't approve, Mikey Has ADHD, Mikey? Using Reddit? More likely than you think, Set halfway in season 3, Splinter is a biased dad sorry not sorry, This can also be seen as taking place in the 2003 universe but I based it mostly on the 2012 one so, anxiety? yeah he has that too, but know i didnt write it with that intention so (shrugs), if you ship tcest get the fuck off i will crazy murder you, its gross and so are you, watch me forcing all of my disorders onto mikey, yeah no space arc to worry about here folks, yeah remember that place? I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-01-23 00:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSirWolficus/pseuds/SirSirWolficus
Summary: "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder." Don said, rubbing at his eyes. "Noun;A condition, usually in children, characterized by inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness." The screen was lighting up his tired face, and Mikey sipped at the last of the hot chocolate he had made for the both of them earlier. There was some grit at the bottom. The computer whirred as the fans kept the board from overheating. He switched his crossed legs, so the other leg was on top of his right. There was a slight pressure mark just above his knee.Donnie turned to face him again. "You check a lot of these boxes, actually, Mikey.""Yeah," He breathed, fiddling with the mug. He tapped against it. The porcelain was cold. There was a crack centimeters from his mouth, to the left. "But not all of them. There's more to it, D.""Yeah." He stifled a yawn. "There is."





	1. Breaking point

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, let's get one thing straight: I'm autistic, my brother's autistic, my dad's autistic, so I'm basing everything on my own and my family's experiences with being autistic. I won't write about anything that I don't know enough about.
> 
> First TMNT fanfiction! Probably I'll make one after this as I have an idea, but I'm not sure. Currently my friend and I are actually working on a fancomic so it's either you'll see that story here or there.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder." Don said, rubbing at his eyes. "Noun;  
> A condition, usually in children, characterized by inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness." The screen was lighting up his tired face, and Mikey sipped at the last of the hot chocolate he had made for the both of them earlier. There was some grit at the bottom. The computer whirred as the fans kept the board from overheating. He switched his crossed legs, so the other leg was on top of his right. There was a slight pressure mark just above his knee.
> 
> Donnie turned to face him again. "You check a lot of these boxes, actually, Mikey."
> 
> "Yeah," He breathed, fiddling with the mug. He tapped against it. The porcelain was cold. There was a crack centimeters from his mouth, to the left. "But not all of them. There's more to it, D."
> 
> "Yeah." He stifled a yawn. "There is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, let's get one thing straight: I'm autistic, my brother's autistic, my dad's autistic, so I'm basing everything on my own and my family's experiences with being autistic. I won't write about anything that I don't know enough about.
> 
> First TMNT fanfiction! Probably I'll make one after this as I have an idea, but I'm not sure. Currently my friend and I are actually working on a fancomic so it's either you'll see that story here or there.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

reddit.com/r/askreddit.

 

"Autistic people of reddit, what is autism really like?"

* * *

Yeah, they always looked down on him. The dumb one. The clueless one. It's fine. I mean, it had always been like that, right? Ever since they were toddlers. The leader. The muscle. The brains. The deadweight. 

But he wasn't clueless about  _everything_. He knew something was wrong. Knew it from day one of training.

" _Michelangelo!_ " His father called from in front of him. Raph snickered from his left, Don looking over worriedly from his right. Leo leaning forward to see everything clearly. Four sets of eyes digging right under his skin. He should be used to this. "This is the fourth time you have ignored my instructions." Mikey glanced at the new kata everyone had switched to, while he stands still in the second last position of the first. His breath caught in his throat. Idiot. The mat under him scratched his feet.

"Sorry, da- uh, Sensei." Sensei. Sensei in the dojo, father outside. "'M really trying."

"Try a bit harder, my son." Splinter's face softened, if just a small amount, and he moved Michelangelo into the starting position of the next kata. The mat scratched. He could still feel their eyes on him. Usually it's fine, being looked at. "I know it is hard."

"He prob'ly jus' wantsta go back to reading his comics." Raphael jabbed, snickering. Mikey shot him a glare, but it wasn't wrong. He had a routine he went through. The new training just.. changed it. He knew it would be starting today, but he never knew it would be now. Didn't know for how long it would go. The mat still itched his feet.

"I'm tryin'a concentrate, Sensei, it's just.. the mat." Mikey softly spoke up, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I jus' can't focus." 

Splinter stepped back, confused. "What is wrong with it, Michelangelo?" 

"I dunno." He shrugged, struggling to keep the kata form. "It's makin' my feet feel all weird." 

"I thought I did a good job." Donnie pouted, looking a bit upset. It's true that he did well, helping to make the mat for the training dojo a few months earlier. Splinter had been proud. So had Mikey. Mikey was proud. He just...

"It's good, D! It is!" He spoke up, something dark turning in his chest. "Sorry, 's dumb."

He couldn't focus. Whenever he steps on that mat, he can't focus.

He can't think of anything else except for the mat scratching deep under the soles of his feet.

But he moved past it. Took it, crumpled it into a ball and shoved it deep inside himself.

* * *

 reddit.com/r/askreddit.

 

"Autistic people of reddit, what is autism really like?"

* * *

Routine was the foundation of his day. Not that he'd tell anyone that. Not that he wanted to. It was just his day, his night. He relied on it, and it worked.

6:30. Wake up. Do stretches. Tug on his mask. Ignore how it tickles. Put on the tape, the bandages, the pads. Ignore the uncomfortable weight. Ignore the itches. Make breakfast. Training. Read comics or watch TV, depends on the day. Go out into the sewers, skateboard or run. Come back, eat lunch. Paint. Training. Dinner. Patrol. Come back, wash up. Set alarm for the next morning. Sleep. Repeat the next day.

It was structure. He was used to it, so when he couldn't remember anything his brothers said, the job his father told him to do, the texts April and Casey sent that he meant to answer, he knew what to do. Knew the order of things. But sometimes it didn't work out, sometimes he'd forget something in his routine. He'd fall apart.

One night, he just got back from patrol. Casey was staying the night, was going to take the couch and some extra blankets. It wasn't planned. Just told the guys that he didn't want to go home, and they didn't push, even though Mikey wanted to, because  _he can't just come home with them, they had a **system**_ , but he went anyway.

"Maybe he could have asked, I 'unno,  _yesterday_?" He whispered to Raph as they all trudged through the sewers, Casey laughing up ahead with Leo, mask hanging in his hand. There was some grit on the sewer floor that dug into his feet. Why were they so sensitive? Why was  _he_ so sensitive? "I just would'a liked to know."

He knew it was coming before it even hit.  _Thwack_ upside the head. Raph hadn't even put his hand back down at his side before Mikey reached up to rub at the impact point. Top of the head, bit angled towards the back. Because it was routine. "He's a friend, Mikey! We can't just let 'im sleep on the street!"

"I didn't say on the street!" Mikey whispered back, a bit loud. "He has his own house, his own bed. He can just sleep there, and then we see him at night when we patrol and he decides to come, or somethin-"

"Raph, Mikey." Leo spoke up from the front, and they both looked up to him. His eyes were narrowed slightly, at Mikey. He wasn't ever happy when looking at him anymore. "Mike, how 'bout you let Casey borrow your blankets for tonight?"

"I.." Mikey swallowed. He knew what would happen if he said no. Knew they'd get mad, or ask questions, and he didn't have the right answers to either of those things, didn't know how to respond in the right way. He knew what would happen if he said yes.

"Yeah, okay, sure."

So he gave Casey his blankets, and he smiled at Mikey showing off all his missing teeth, and apologized for "bustin' in on their jam". "Nah, it's cool bro!" Mikey said, all smiles, going back to his own room.

He slept with three blankets, not because it was warm, but because it was comfortable. He didn't have as much, given some to Casey. It wasn't as heavy as it usually was. He almost forgot to set his alarm. He had to set his alarm for the morning. Had to. He couldn't sleep. 

Routine.

* * *

" _You know that time you said something stupid and everyone looked at you like you grew a second head?_ " Mikey scrolled through the comments of the post, breathing quietly. " _Imagine feeling like that everytime you talk to someone._ " And he couldn't help but agree.

He'd been thinking about it all day, just so that he would be ready. Wouldn't get to his room and just shut down like he's done before. Tonight was the night Donnie would crash after patrol and sleep for at least a day before getting up and going for three days without a break. So he walked into his lab, grabbed his computer, and was sitting in a crossways in the sewer tunnels. The smell stung, rocks dug into his legs as he sat, the brick behind him making an uncomfortable noise everytime he moved, but it was worth it. He would shove it deep inside him, like the mat. 

He scrolled through the website more. He had found the website, Reddit, a few days ago, but since he hadn't his own computer, he had to just wait for Don to look away before borrowing his. Didn't have an account, but after digging through posts, saw one that caught his attention. People describing their life in ways he could relate to. They all had access to doctors, medical professionals, people who knew all the ins and outs of human psyche. He didn't have that. Didn't even really knew he was more wrong than he already thought.

When he read, it clicked, and it made sense. Everything that was wrong with him, it was wrong for a reason. So he researched.

He was up until late in the night, reading and reading about anything that he could relate to; ADHD, anxiety, dependency on the familiar, oversensitivity-- things he ignored, bottled up. How he was always acutely aware of everything touching his skin. Every taste. Every too-bright light or too-dark room, every scent that was too much, how everything seemed to just stack and stack and then the tower would topple and he would just sit next to his bed without his mask or wrappings and just close his eyes and  _sit_. Why when he got too excited, he would jump around, feel the need to just  _move, move, do **something!**_ And then Raph or Donnie or  _Leo would--_

He closed the laptop. Walked silently into Donnie's lab, still empty, still quiet. He could hear the quiet whir of stand-by machines. The churning of pipes far away but still close enough to be heard. Crawled into bed, curled in on himself, like every night. Except he knew. He  _knew_. Knew why he was always so obsessed with things. Knew how to help himself. He smiled. Fully, truly. There wasn't something dark and ignored curled around his lungs that night.

* * *

"Mikey. Mikey. Mikey!" Donnie was touching his shoulder, rough, digging his fingers in and rocking him, how had he not noticed-- "Were you on my laptop?"

"Whu?" Mikey shook himself, looking up from his comic book-- issue #47, page 13, reading it again for the 21st time-- into Donnie's face. He seemed annoyed, but that may have been because he's tired (training had ended a little bit ago), but he couldn't be sure.

"Did you take my laptop and use it without my explicit permission." Donnie said, leaning back and huffing, as if having to explain something to a toddler. As usual. "Webpages were up that I wasn't looking at. Somethin' called Reddit."

"Uh.." Mikey swallowed, picking at the fabric of the couch he sat on, the repeated motion calming him some. "Nah, wasn't me."

"I know it was you." Don said, voice dead. "You always fidget with your hands when you're lying." He gestures to where Mikey is picking at the couch, and he quickly withdraws his hand, getting nervous. He had to stop it. Stop doing that.  _But they said it was normal to--_ "What the heck were you even looking at?"

"I was, uh.." His chest felt like it was compacting in on itself. Everyone knew that you don't touch Don's computer. He didn't want to get hit. Leo was in the kitchen pouring tea. Raph was tearing into the training dummy. Where was Splinter? Where was  _Dad?_ "It's- It's like, uh, a website where people, uhm, talk? And post pictures and stuff?"

"Did you make an account?" 

"No." The answer was fast, almost as fast as the question. It's pretty likely that Don already knew what it was. Was Splinter meditating? Maybe looking at his old pictures. 

Donnie sighed, pinching the area between his eyes. Exasperated. "Just don't touch my laptop, Mike."

"I won't." Liar.

Donnie walked away, stalking back towards his lab, his own safe haven. Mikey wondered where his was. At least he wasn't hit. The pages of the comic felt unnatural in his hands, but he didn't want to rewatch the old tapes they had, didn't want to get up and go early out into the sewers. Didn't know what to do.

He broke routine. Went to paint. Got out a canvas he hadn't yet used or painted over, got out his stuff, sat against the side of his bed. The paints were a gift from April. He liked April; she was smart, funny, a good friend. Didn't stay over unexpectedly. Didn't hit him when he messed up. He couldn't stop thinking about Donatello.

So he painted Donatello.

Broke routine.

* * *

 What was that saying? Liar, liar, pants on fire? Swing from a telephone wire? Or was it hang.

" _Outside with my parrots - my happy place._ " 

Mikey scrolled through the different posts on Donnie's laptop. He didn't want to bother Don and ask him to make him one-- didn't want to get asked why, didn't want to get yelled at for being selfish. He had been sitting in the crossway for an hour or so, looking at people posting their art, telling their stories, just pictures of themselves. The one he was looking at now was of someone standing by a quiet road in a city, holding two parrots- they were adorable. He tapped next to the keyboard, shuffled his feet against the rough stone, suppressed a shiver at the wetness of it. He chewed his cheek, lightly bit his tongue, debating.

He hit the sign up option. Got a fake e-mail off some sketchy website and put in a username.  _MyKaleAndJello_. Typed out a post.

_"my names michelangelo. i think im autistic?? probably other stuff too. and uh.._  

_i dont know how to tell my family theres something wrong with me._ "

He probably stared at the screen for hours, processing what he's done. Made an account online. Put himself out into the open. His  _family_ out in the open. Made a post with his  _name_ in it. He just stared at the webpage until the notification icon suddenly had a one next to it.

" _I'm woody. If you need a friend, i'm right here, buddy._ "

A friend. A human friend. Someone who doesn't know he's a mutant, a turtle, living in the sewers, not trying to kill him. Someone who'd treat him like a normal person.

_MyKaleAndJello: hi, i like drawing and comics and cooking and stuff_

_pizzamandirkens: Hey man, i like cooking too! nice to meet you._

They talked the rest of the night. Mikey made sure to erase the browsing history.

* * *

It was a new routine. One he wasn't used to yet, but he was getting better at following. 

Wake up. Eat. Train. Waste time. Eat. Create something. Train. Eat. Patrol. Pretend to go to sleep.

Steal Donnie's laptop when he can and talk to Woody. Sleep.

He had gotten pretty close to this random stranger on the internet. They didn't say where they lived, they were both teenagers, and Woody wanted to be a chef. Mikey would send him pictures of art he made and Woody would tell him how cool it was. He got advice. A metaphorical shoulder to lean on, to cry on.

_MyKaleAndJello: you know ive been kinda wanting to like talk to my friend april bout all this._

_MyKaleAndJello: shes pretty cool._  

_pizzamandirkens: Go for it then, if what you've said is true then she should be chill with it all._  

_pizzamandirkens: What about your brothers? with everything you say about how cool they are i'd think they'd still support you if you brought this stuff up with them._

_MyKaleAndJello: yeah_

_MyKaleAndJello: sorry i just know that they wont. theyll probably say im making stuff up or that im wrong or i dont know hit me or something_  

_pizzamandirkens: Woah woah woah wait_

_pizzamandirkens: They hit you??_

_MyKaleAndJello: uhh yeah what about it?_

_pizzamandirkens: That's not ok man_

_pizzamandirkens: That's not normal_

What about him  _is_ normal? What part _is_ okay?

He closed the chat, erased the history, and went to bed.

* * *

 "April," Mikey started, swinging his legs off the roof of the tall building they were perched on. "Is what me and my Bro's do normal?" 

"What?" She said, smiling. "What gave you the notion that four, teenaged, ninja, mutant turtles, _wasn't_ normal?"

He couldn't help but laugh a bit at that, but quickly the smile slipped off his face. "I think there's somethin' wrong. With my family, with.." He swallowed, nerves racing up his arms, his legs, his chest. "With me."

"Oh, Mikey." April sighed, scooting closer to him. The lights from the busy street lit up her face. They had all split up earlier, Mikey being paired off with April upon a lot of begging that he thought would get ignored. He had sat down earlier, she had followed suit. She probably knew what was wrong, what he was thinking, what he was afraid of. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I was on this website called Reddit." He said, and she nodded, following. Watching her, he looked down at the street below their feet. "I found this part of it, I think it's called a forum? But, uhm, it was about all these people who said they were autistic." He fiddled with his hands, his fingers dragging down against the palms of his hands. The gritty brick was digging into his thighs. "I just kept relating to everything they said, about how they struggled. So I posted on it about how I was feeling."

He sat, waiting for April to gasp out, to yell at him for being such an imbecile, to run off to tell his brothers, or worse; his father. But when he looked at her, she just watched, waiting for him to continue. He took a breath to steady himself.

"A lot of them were about, uh, non-verbal people, which y'know, that ain't me, bro! But, uh, there was all this stuff about 'Stimming', and oversensitivity, and just, y'know,  _stuff_ I deal with too. A guy commented on my post, and he was like, 'Name's woody, pard'ner! And if you wanna talk, I'm right here!'" 

"And you messaged him?"

"Yeah, I did. Now he- he doesn't know I'm a mutant, or where I live, he just knows my name and that I'm a teenager. He is too! He said he wants to be a chef and I thought, cool, I like cooking!"

April snorted. "Yeah, making hellish concoctions of pizza."

Mikey felt something dark curl up in his chest, under his heart. "Yeah." He breathed.

"Mikey?" April said, concerned. He scooted closer, face scrunching up in worry.

"I..." He hunched in on himself, trying to kick away all the ugly emotions stirring up inside him. "Is it normal? How Raph and Don and Leo treat me?"

"What do you mean?" She put a hand on his shoulder, gentle. His mask was tickling his face. He thought he was ignoring that.

"They hit me. They hit me a lot." He whispered. "Woody said that ain't normal. It is, right?" He looked up at her, desperate. Pleading. "It's normal?"

She looked at him, silent, pitifully. She rubbed his shoulder as he felt himself tear up. "No, Mikey." She said, quiet. "It isn't. And I'm sorry I never noticed." She leaned over him, and wrapped her arms around his shell, holding him close. He sniffed, body tense, everything digging into his skin but he's trying so hard to focus, focus, focus on April's smooth skin on his own. After long moments of them just sitting there, April leaned back, and slowly turned Mikey's face towards her own. "Can you tell me about it?"

"About what?" He asked. The tails of his bandana were tickling his neck. He wanted to throw them off, cut them off, but Splinter always said no. He shouldn't be thinking of that right now.

"About everything that makes you think you're autistic. Not that I'm doubting you, Mike- so I can know how to help."

And he breathed in, and out. He took off his bandanna, and all the wrappings on his joints, and sat down on a part of the roof that didn't bother him as much, and April didn't say a thing.

And he just talked.

"You don't like the pizza you make?" April said, after Mikey confessed the truth about his weird, messed-up pizzas that he bundled up nice and tight inside himself. "I thought you loved it. That's, like, your whole thing, pizza-wise."

Mikey swallowed at that. "I know." He said, not meeting her eyes. "I don't know why I keep doin' it, though. I mean, normal pizza? Awesome. Really good. Looove it. But all my brothers loved it, too, and I just... I dunno. I wanted them to just, look at me. And not be annoyed. Maybe have Splinter acknowledge me for something." He shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"With what?"

"With Splinter?"

"It's just..." He rubbed his hands on his thighs, down to his knees. "He's proud of all my other bro's for stuff. For how smart D' is, how tough Raph is, how good of a leader Leo is. He ain't proud of me for nothin'." His hands curled into fists. "I'm just a screw up to him, I bet."

"Mikey, come on. That can't be true."

"But it _is_ , April. You know what he did when he was giving everyone their weapons for the first time? He had this cool, philosophical reason for everyone, except _me_. I got the nunchucks because they were what's left over. He said the katana were for leaders, the sai 'cause Raph likes fightin' close to people, and Don got the Bo 'cause he likes to be tactical or somethin'. And me?" He glared at the ground, tears threatening to surface. He blinked them back, willing himself not to cry. "He didn't know what to say. Didn't even look at me when he did figure out somethin'- said they were perfect for me."

"They  _are_ pretty good for you, Mikey."

"No, I know, I mean.." He sighed, wiping at his eyes. "He had this thoughtful description for everyone else, and I know I'm more goofy than them, but... I at least wanted somethin' like that, too. He said it like he had just thought of it then and there. He prob'ly did." He looked up at April, seeing her look back at him, a forlorn expression on her face. He looked away again. He couldn't stand seeing that expression on her face. "'S dumb. I dunno why I do it. I want to stop, just eat normal pizza."

"Then do it, Mikey." April said, scooting and sitting next to him, leaning onto his side. "Don't do things that make you uncomfortable."

"But that's what everyone _expects_ me to do. It's like a routine."

"Then change the routine." April said, looking at him, into his eyes, into _him_. "If they can't accept you doing things differently, then leave and wait until they _do_."

"Thanks, April." Mikey whispered. "This means a lot."

"I wanted to ask, also- sorry if it bothers you," she said, leaning back so she can fully look at him. "But, when we started talking, why'd you take all your ninja stuff off?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." He rushed out, scrambling to get everything back on. Shit. Shit. What an idiot.  _What an **idiot**_. "It just- it's so  _stupid_ , April, but, it-- it always itches and tickles and its too heavy and it really bothers me and it's so dumb and I'm so dumb and I'm  _sorry_ -"

"Michelangelo!" She said, louder than before, grounding. She took both his shoulders, didn't dig in her fingers like Donnie, or Raph, or Leo, and held him. "It's fine. You don't have to apologize."

"I- yeah, yeah. My b', you know?" He tried to laugh, but it came out wet. "But I always have to wear them. Whenever I'm awake, and- and you'd think I'd get used to it, but I can't."

"You can probably put stuff under, to make it softer and not bother as much? Definitely with the mask."

"That's a really good idea!" Mikey yelled, bouncing off where he stood, mind thrumming with different half-made ideas of how to solve the quieter problems of everyday. "I wish I could do somethin' about my mask tails."

"What's wrong with them?" April asked, walking up to where he had bounced to on the roof.

"They always tickle my neck." Mikey shrugged, waving his hands at his sides. "But it's fine. I can deal with it better if I deal with everythin' else."

April smiled then, hugging Mikey, holding him close, and he couldn't help but hug back. He wasn't sure how he felt. It was so nice, to get it out in the open with someone so close, someone who honestly truly cared about him, but his brothers didn't know. His father. They didn't know. And if they saw him without all his wrappings, his mask, they-

"Mikey! April!" Leo yelled from the other side of the rooftop. "We were all supposed to meet on the corner of thirty-third and fifth! What've you two-" He paused, looking at Mikey with only one knee-pad on, mask and bandages strewn across the roof, nunchucks on the floor. "Mikey, what were you _doing_?"

"I-" He swallowed thickly, gears turning in dust as he tried to think of something to say, when April stood in front of him, hands easily going into her pockets, confidence radiating off of her.

"We ran into some Purple Dragons, had a bit of a scuffle. I was looking over Mikey to make sure he didn't get any nasty hits." She smiled. "Sorry 'bout not showing on time. We were just about to go."

"Glad you two are okay," Leo breathed, relieved. "At least you guys got a good workout tonight. We thought it was pretty quiet where we were." And he started heading back to where they were meant to meet up again, not looking back to see if they were following. April sighed in relief, turning back to Mikey.

"Solid." She said, giving him a wide grin.

"You didn't have to do that, Apes." Mikey couldn't help but smile at her.

"Ain't a problem, Mikester. And if you really want your family to be more understanding.. I'd say you should talk with Donnie." She said, soft. Giving his shoulder a few pats before starting on her own way home. "He's smart, and out of anyone I think you should talk to him, first."

"Okay, April." Mikey said after her, even though she was too far away to hear. "I'll try."

Racing across the rooftops, he couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. When he got to their meet-up building, his brothers were waiting there for him. And Casey.

"Case', shouldn't you go home?"

"Nah, dude! I'm crashin' at yours tonight." He smiled, finger-gunning at Mikey. He tried to smile back.

"Alright, 'nough yip-yap, let's go already. We've been waiting forever, Mikey. What were you doin', paintin' yer nails?" Raph jabbed, smirking as he and Casey started to race home. Mikey's indignant  _hey!_ not even reaching their ears. And then everyone followed, and Mikey had to really sprint to catch up. He hit the pavement of the street right after Donnie, and as their brothers and friend clambered down into the sewers, Mikey grabbed onto Donnie's arm.

"Don?"

"What is it, Mikey?" He responded, words not coming out as harsh as they could have.

"When we get back to the lair, could we.." He bit his lower lip, nerves coming back. "Can I talk to you? In your lab?"

"Of course, Mikey." Donnie said, worry clouding his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah." He breathed out, looking up at his immediate older brother. "There's been somethin' wrong for awhile."

* * *

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder." Don said, rubbing at his eyes. "Noun; A condition, usually in children, characterized by inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness." The screen was lighting up his tired face, and Mikey sipped at the last of the hot chocolate he had made for the both of them earlier. There was some grit at the bottom. The computer whirred as the fans kept the board from overheating. He switched his crossed legs, so the other leg was on top of his right. There was a slight pressure mark just above his knee.

Donnie turned to face him again. "You check a lot of these boxes, actually, Mikey."

"Yeah," He breathed, fiddling with the mug. He tapped against it. The porcelain was cold. There was a crack centimeters from his mouth, to the left. "But not all of them. There's more to it, D."

"Yeah." He stifled a yawn. "There is."

"'Cause, I'm sorry I took your computer, D', but I just had to look." He put down the mug. His hands were shaking. He didn't even realize he was this scared. "And, I always thought I was bein' dumb for being so sensitive to everything, but with this thing, autism? It makes sense, and-"

"Mikey." Donnie put his hands over Mikey's, quieting him. He looked up, hoping, desperately, that his brother would say that he understood, that he'd help, or maybe that he felt it too, that they could work together to help him- "I don't think you're autistic."

"What?"

"Yeah, there's similarities, but there's a difference between being autistic and just being sensitive to some stuff." He tapped away at his keyboard before looking over at Michelangelo again. "Mikey, bud, I'm happy you told me about this. I'll talk to the guys, and Splinter, and we can probably figure out ways to help with ADHD. With the mask and wrappings though," He gestured to everything Mikey still wore, despite Donnie having taking his off earlier. "I think you'll just have to deal."

"...Okay." Mikey said, taking Don's empty mug and his own, beginning to walk out of the lab. "Okay."

He took off his mask, the wrappings around his joints.

He washed up.

He climbed into his bed. One of his blankets was missing.

Tried to sleep.

Almost didn't set his alarm.

Slept.

Routine.

* * *

"I'm sorry it didn't go well with Donnie, Mike." April said, lying on his bed in his room. He was painting, a portrait of a small turtle with a yellow bandanna tied around it's middle. It was after lunch. "I thought he'd agree with us, after you told him everything."

"Well, I may not have told him.. everything." He admitted, growing quieter near the end. April sat up, looking at him in disbelief. A small weight settled in his stomach at the familiarity of the expression.

"Mikey!"

"I didn't want him to think I was broken or somethin', okay!" He said, looking up at her from his canvas. Some of the paint dripped onto the cold floor. "I just.. I couldn't have him think that."

She sighed, lying back down for a few quiet moments. Mikey went back to the painting, adding orange undertones to the bandanna on the turtle. The normal turtle. Suddenly, April flew over the side of the bed, and started ravenging around in her bag. "April?" He asked, looking at her.

"I actually brought something for you! I almost forgot." She brought out her old phone, the one she had before Don gave her a T-Phone. "It's my old one. No cell service, but it connects to internet and the password is just a buncha zeroes. I figured you could get Reddit on it and talk to your friend, Woody."

"I- really?" He stood, painting forgotten, and started examining the tiny thing. His fingers were clumsy as he unlocked the phone, and looked at the bare screen, but his eyes brightened considerably. "April! You didn't have to!"

"Well, you said you could only do it on Don's computer, but then I remembered they had an app. Your phones can't get normal apps though, and I don't need this one anymore, so." She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. She took out the charger for it and set it on his nightstand. When she stood, she found herself immediately crushed in a giant turtle-hug.

"Thank you, April." Mikey squeezed her impossibly tighter, smiling so wide his face might have split. "Thank you!"

"Anytime, Mikey!" She pulled away after some moments, showed him how to get into his account, and how the phone worked. "I was wondering if I could tell Casey."

"Tell him what?" He looked at her, quizzically.

"About what you're going through. He can be really nice, when he isn't a complete bonehead." She rolled her eyes at that. "He's really good with his sister, too. I figured if he knew, he wouldn't try and crash here as much, knowing how it bothers you and your whole routine."

"What if he reacts like Don did?" He asked, cold fear licking at him.

"He won't. I know the guy. I once told him I was dyslexic to see if he'd believe it, and he didn't ask any questions, just said 'yeah, okay.' I'm not dyslexic though!" She laughed, smiling, and it drew one from him as well. "He'll understand."

"..Okay. What'd I do without ya, April?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Keep stealing Don's computer every night." She smirked. And she was right.

* * *

_MyKaleAndJello: hey woody!!_

_pizzamandirkins: Mikey!! i thought you died or something!_

_MyKaleAndJello: nah the computer i used was my bros and yknow hes finicky with that stuff_

_MyKaleAndJello: but i got a new phone!! well it was aprils? it doesnt have service or nothin but i can talk to you again!_

_pizzamandirkins: Sick dude!_

_pizzamandirkins: I GOTTA tell you about this recipe i found while you were MIA, i think you'd really like it._

_MyKaleAndJello: go for it dude!!_

And this time he didn't even have to clear his history. He could scroll up, and find this exact conversation, and relive it. And it was a new routine. But there was one thing that still bothered him. He pulled out his T-Phone.

_You: hey aprilll_

_madam oneil: Hey Mikey! Whats up?_

_You: i was just wonderin somethin_

_You: you know how some people have like their happy place_

_madam oneil: Yeah?_

_You: do you think you could take me back to your farmhouse someday?_

_madam oneil: Why do you want to go back there? Not a lot of good memories associated with it._

_You: yeah i knooww but_

_You: it makes me happy there_

* * *

 

New routine. One he had to keep under wraps, but it was there. It made him happy. Go through the day as normal, and after he closed his door and slipped into bed, he'd bring out April's old phone, and message Woody. Sometimes he wouldn't respond, since it's so late (or early? They didn't know the timezones) but he'd check on the phone later and see he had responded while he was out doing something else. He was tempted to bring the thing with him when he went to read comics out in the front room, or while he was out in the sewers, but he knew he couldn't let his brothers see he was talking to someone outside the circle, or posting things to message boards and forums and generally making himself present in the world. They probably wouldn't even be proud of the amount of support he got for the art he posted online- the messages saying that it was good, the critiques he got that helped him, the emotions that he still didn't really fully understand but Woody said were good or funny. He didn't think he was changing. Not until Raph came into the kitchen when he was making himself breakfast.

"What's wrong with you." He huffed, crossing his arms and leaning his right side on the countertop.

"Whaddya mean, Raph?" Mikey said, eyes wide and confused, flipping a slightly burnt pancake in the pan.

" _This_." He said, gesturing to Mikey cooking. "Usually for breakfast you make some unholy abomination of a pizza, but recently you've just.." He scrunched up his face. "Cooked normal stuff."

"Maybe I like this stuff more than weirdo pizza." He shrugged, throwing it ungracefully onto a waiting plate, a long crack going down the middle. Before he could grab it and sit, Raph had taken the plate and held it away from him. "Aw, c'mon, Raph."

"You don't like  _nothin'_ more than that pizza you like. You eat it all the time, bro." Mikey swallowed as he thought of two nights prior, eating a pizza encrusted with stale jellybeans, sour cream and some random thing they found in the cupboard that was going to expire in a few days. The entire time he made it, entire time he ate it, he couldn't stop thinking about what April told him. "So I'm gonna say it one more time. The hell's wrong with ya?" He swallowed again.

"That stuff's gross, Raph." He said, quiet, glaring at him. "I don't wanna eat it anymore, so I won't."

Raph looked at him, face contorting in an array of emotions that Mikey couldn't place. " _What?_ " He said, incredulous. "The hell're you, and what did you do to my brother?"

"Please, Raph." He was tired. He was hungry. His hand itched at his side, and he wanted desperately to fiddle with something, but then Raph would think he's lying, and he's _not_. "Jus' let me eat my breakfast, bro."

His eyes narrowed. "What're you hidin'?"

"Nothing!" He snapped, reaching forward and trying to grab the plate. Raphael just held it further away. " _Raph!_ "

"Yer hidin' somethin', and it's makin' you act all weird! In the mornin' you eat some weird-ass pizza, at lunch you eat even weirder pizza, and at dinner you eat the weirdest-goddamn-pizza I see!  _Ya don't think it's gross!_ "

"Why are you getting so messed up over this?  _It's just pizza_ _!_ " He yelled, eyes scrunched up and fingers pressing into his palms repeatedly. He felt like he was shaking. The fridge was humming. He could hear Donnie sorting stuff in his room. He felt Raph's eyes on him. "It's just stupid, gross, horrible pizza. Forget about it." He opened his eyes, staring at his feet, a rage burning inside him. "Drop it."

"The hell's wrong with you?" Raph spit out. "Ever since you snatched Don's computer, you've been weird."

"I didn't take his computer."

"I was there when you two talked about it, numbskull."

"I didn't take his  _stupid computer!_ "

"What is  _wrong with you!?_ "

"Good morning to you two, then." Leo muttered as he walked in, taking out a plate and setting it aside as he started making toast. The water boiler began humming as it warmed up. "Isn't it a bit early to be fighting?"

"Apparently not." Mikey muttered, pushing his way past Raph and into his room. He'd wait for training. Didn't need to stand in that room, rilled with tension and questions he couldn't answer yet. The soft noises of the kitchen usually calmed him, got him ready for the day. Not then.

Raphael kept looking at him through morning training. Through the whole day.

Didn't say a word to him, though.

* * *

  _hackey: Yo yo yo Mikester!_

He was out in the sewers, absentmindedly skate-boarding around empty, dry tunnels when his T-Phone jingled, signalling him to a new text. He didn't expect it to be Casey, of all people. They weren't very close.

_You: casey jooonnnesssss_

_You: to what do i owe this pleasure ;D_

_hackey: Was wondering if it was okay with you if I crashed at you and your bro's place tonight?_

He stopped skateboarding, planting his foot on the ground. He stood in the quiet tunnel, water dripping somewhere around him, cool air hitting his warm skin. Casey Jones was asking if it was okay for him to stay over? He was asking  _Mikey?_

He was giving Mikey some warning?

_hackey: Cause if it ain't cool then I won't do it, dude_

_You: nah nah man! you can crash_

_You: thanks for letting me know_

_hackey: No problem dude!_

Mikey smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. He  _was_ cool about it.

He put his T-Phone back in his belt and kept skate-boarding down the tunnel.

* * *

 

Now whenever Casey wanted to stay over, he'd tell Mikey first. He'd never take one of his blankets as well, not without asking. Sometimes Mikey would say it's okay, but mostly he wouldn't. Casey never pressed him. He'd just smile and steal someone else's.

At night, he'd text Woody, and look through posts, and he never felt happier. He found fabric one night while looking through a junkyard with Leo that felt soft against his fingers, but not too soft, and he cut it so it was slightly smaller than his mask. He took Splinter's sewing kit he kept in a cupboard by the kitchen, and one day while everyone was busy he sat down and sewed it under his mask. There was a small pair of fabric scissors in the basket he found as well, and on a whim, he cut the tails of his mask so that they didn't tickle his neck anymore, but were long enough that he could feel them hit the base of his head. It didn't bother him though.

Next time Leo went out to look for some junk that Donnie needed, Mikey bounced over to him and asked if he could come.

"You seriously want to come with me?" Leo asked, perplexed. Mikey just nodded, bouncing on his feet and smiling. Leo gave a short sigh. "You gotta follow me though, okay Mikey? Don't goof off too much."

"I'll do my best!" He said, smile crooked as he followed Leo into the sewer. 

He came back with more soft fabric, and went to work soon after.

Everything was good. It was fine. It was working.

_pizzamandirkins: My parents helped me get a job actually_

_pizzamandirkins: It's just at a shitty little pizza joint, but it's something, you know? and i even get to cook some pizza!_

_MyKaleAndJello: yoo woody! thats sick dude!!! im super mega proud_

_pizzamandirkins: I could probably sneak you some free slices too, if you're ever in the mood._

_MyKaleAndJello: i'd love that, dude, but we're probably not even in the same city!!!_

_pizzamandirkins: Shit man yeah! how did i forget what??_

_pizzamandirkins: I actually live in nyc though it's pretty insane._

Something heavy settled in Mikey's throat. He didn't have time to think before he texted his response.

_MyKaleAndJello: i live in nyc_

_pizzamandirkins: What! how crazy is that?_

_pizzamandirkins: free pizza?_

He swallowed.

_MyKaleAndJello: you know it_

* * *

 

"What is this?" Leo stood over him, Raph just behind. Their arms were crossed.

"Hold it, Leo- I almost got it!" He stuck out his tongue for affect, mashing buttons repeatedly trying to get past a blindingly bright level of whatever shoot-em-up Donnie had found a fixed up for them to play. Raph stomped over and unplugged the TV before he could even kill another enemy. "Hey!"

"I found  _this_ -" Leo threw something onto Mikey's lap without warning as he pouted at Raph. "In your room. I heard buzzing, so I walk in, and there it was."

"What're you talkin' 'bout, Leo?" Mikey quirked his lips, looking at him before glancing down to whatever he threw at him. His face paled as he recognized it. April's old phone.

"Who's Pizza-man-Dirkins, and why's he tryina meet up with you?" Raph growled, glowering down at Mikey. "How does he know your name?"

Mikey swallowed. "He's a friend." He said quietly.

"Really." Leo said, low. "A friend you haven't said anything to us about."

"Yeah." He said, low anger reigniting deep in his stomach. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"Yeah, you  _do_ , you idiot!" Raph yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "'Cause now this stranger wants to meet up with you and take you who knows where!"

" _I know where!_ " He yelled back, fists clenching, standing up. "You don't get to care about this! You don't get to care about what I do, who I talk to!"

Donnie stepped out of his lab, concern written all over his face. "What's-"

"Mikey, what did you tell him?!"

"Nothing!"

"Oh ho ho, you told him  _somethin'!_ " Raph yelled back. 

"I told him the  _truth!_ "

" _You said we were mutants!?_ " Leo yelled, shocked.

" ** _NO!_** " Mikey screamed, eyes closed tight, hands at his sides. He panted, trying to force away the burn in his eyes, the lump in his throat telling him he was going to cry.

"Michelangelo." Leo breathed, anger simmering in his voice. "What did you do?"

"What the heck's happening?" Donnie whispered to Raph, who glared down at his younger brother in front of him.

"This idiot's been talkin' to someone online." Raph scoffed, turning to face his brother. "He prob'ly blabbed about everything."

"I'm going to tell Father." Leo said solemnly, turning on his heel.

"No." Mikey breathed out, walking towards him. "Please. Please don't tell him."

"Why shouldn't I?" Leo turned, glaring at his brother. "We're supposed to be hidden from the world, Mikey. No one should know we exist."

"He doesn't know we're mutants!"

"Yeah, but how long 'till he does?" Raph said, turning to him again.

Donnie walked over to the phone, knocked onto the ground. Picking it up, he inspected it before unlocking it and looking through it. "Mikey, I'm deleting your account."

"Donnie-" His eyes widened, and he rushed across the small space to him, grabbing onto his arm. "Donnie, don't, don't, please, I won't be able to talk to him!"

"That's the point, Mikey! We can't trust that you won't go out and scare him and get us all revealed to the public!"

" _Please_!" He cried, the tears coming to his eyes forgotten and ignored. "He's my friend!"

"I don't care!"

"Let him do this, Mikey, and we won't tell Splinter about it." Leo said, emotions gone.

Mikey stared at him, then to Raph, then to Don. They all looked back, waiting for what he's to say. It's a lose/lose situation. They all know it. He knows it.

He dropped his hands and ran back to his room. He didn't come out for training.

He didn't set his alarm.

 

Mikey woke up the next morning to a pounding on his door.

"Mikey!" Leo called, finally opening his door and looking in on him. "It's time for training."

"What?" Mikey gasped, sitting up straight in bed, eyes wide.

"It's time for training." Leo reiterated. "Get your stuff on and lets go!" He closed the door behind him, feet trudging back to the dojo where his family waited.

Shit. Shit.  _No_. He had an alarm. He had an alarm, didn't he? So he didn't oversleep? He opened his T-Phone, looked through everything on it. He forgot to set it. How did he forget to set it? He didn't have time to eat, to stretch, to get everything on-- everything was wrong wrong  _wrong_ , his breathing picked up as he shakily stood out of bed. He heard Raph distantly, yelling, probably trying to get him to hurry up. He was suddenly acutely aware of everything near him, of all the sounds he could hear, and he couldn't stop breathing so fast, and there was knocking on his door again,  _probably father, probably here to yell at you, to tell you **he's so disappointed**_ , and he didn't even know when he started pacing, but he did notice when he stopped, a crunch echoing off the walls of his room-- the old painting of Donatello he did, the one he did when he couldn't think of anything else, his foot had gone right through his face, and _he didn't have time for this-- it was time for **training, and now they're going to hit you, and it's all you're FAULT-**_

And everything is too loud but it's also too quiet, and he knows he can hear muttering outside the door, can see the shadows, but he's scared and he can't think, his hands keep shaking but he can't feel them shake, he can see them though, and he doesn't even know what's HAPPENING anymore. He can hear Leo outside the door, asking if he's okay, if it's about what happened yesterday, because they can  _talk about it_ , but his voice is too close and yet too far away and nothing's processing-

"Get out here before I knock down this door and drag ya out!"

Raph's shout echoed in Mikey's ears, piercing his skull as it knocked around. His breathing hitched and he stopped, he couldn't remember how he was supposed to breathe. He could barely process the myriad of voices hushing Raphael. Donnie's, Leo's, _Splinter's_...

God, God, no,  _Splinter_ was out there, he was going to come in and chastise him, tell him how  _you have to be more like your brothers, Michelangelo,_ and he couldn't-

He didn't remember opening the door, the concerned faces looking at him. He only remembered running. Shoving past them and into the front room, up the stairs and into the sewer tunnels, remembered hearing his brother's call out for him and Splinter telling them to  _follow_ , and he'd never run so fast in his life. Not from Shredder. Not from the Kraang. Why wouldn't it be from his family?

He ran across rooftops in the early morning light, ducking and dodging behind signs and posts, not knowing if he was still being followed. He didn't stop, not until he got to April's window. He sucked in a breath he didn't know he needed, rapped his knuckles on the glass window. A few moments pass before April, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, opens it and lets him in.

"Mikey?" She mutters, moving stray hair out of her face. "What are you doing here? I need to get to school."

"I'm sorry." He rushed out, still shaking. "But I need to go. I need you to take me."

"Take you where?"

"To your farmhouse. I- everything fell apart, April. They found my account and deleted it, and then I woke up too late and- and-"

"Hey, hey, Mikey. Look at me." She softly took his shoulders, rubbed them a bit. She didn't comment on the fact he didn't have his mask on, or any wrappings, or the fact there were fresh tear tracts on his face. "I understand. I'll get my Dad, he can drive us down."

"Thank you." His face scrunched up, eyes closing as more tears fell onto his cheeks. April gently held him close. "Thank you, April."

"Do you want me to tell your brothers?" She asked softly after a few moments.

His breath hitched. "No."

* * *

 

 "I'm sorry you're missing school 'cause of me, April." Mikey muttered from the back of the small car they were all in. Kirby just glanced back at him with a sad look.

"For the last time, Mike, don't worry about it. I'm a good enough student that they'll let it slide." Her T-Phone buzzed for the umpteenth time, and she opened it to see Leo's contact. Sighing, she glanced back at Mikey, who hadn't looked up at her the entire ride. The car bumped over the rough country road. She picked up.

"Hey, Leo."

_"April! Thank god-- look, have you seen Mikey!?"_

Looking into the backseat, she saw Michelangelo tense up where he was sitting, lightly scratching at his calf. She worried her lip in guilt. "I haven't, Leo, I'm in school. Did something happen?"

_"He ran off this morning before training, he didn't have his mask or anything, and he left his T-Phone in his room. We can't find him."_ She heard muffled voices in the background, as well as Raph harshly talking to someone else, probably Casey.  _"We don't know where he could've gone."_

"I'll look when I can, okay? I hope you guys find him alright." Saying goodbyes, she hung up, and glanced behind her at Mikey, who was finally looking at her again, eyes glossy and a small smile on his face.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Mikey." She said.

It didn't take long for them to roll up the dirt road and pull up in front of the farm house. Slamming the car doors shut, April dropped the keys to the house in Mikey's hand, as well as a bag with cash in it.

"April, you don't gotta give me money." He said, trying to give it back.

"Mikey, if you're gonna be staying here, you have to get yourself groceries. I bet that old guy from before will remember you and let you shop there." She replied, forcing the money into his hands. "It's from me and my Dad. If you don't use it all you can always give it back."

He breathed deeply, before looking at him. "I'm so sorry. For all of this."

"You're whole family's dramatic, Mike." She waved him off. "Honestly, I'm just glad you trusted me enough for all of this. Take care of yourself."

"Everything will turn out just fine, Michael." Kirby said to him, giving his shoulder a few awkward pats. "Consider it a small thanks for everything you've done for us."

"I.." He didn't know what else to say.

April gave him a hug before hopping back in her father's car, Kirby climbing in after her and giving a final wave before pulling down the road, out of sight. He slowly walked inside the farmhouse, dropping the bag of petty cash on the kitchen counter, before wandering through the house. The downstairs, still slightly scuffed from all the tussles, the upstairs, moody with unpleasant memories of comatose brothers and long days of healing.

But there was no unresponsive brother in the bathtub this time, just Mikey's shadow filling the room as he stood still in the doorway.

He went out to the field behind the house, and he could hear all the chickens clucking nearby. The wind blowing through the nearby forest, wildlife chirping. He breathed in the air, the wind burning his throat, overwhelming and all-encompassing and he  _loved it_.

He didn't stop himself from running out to the field, up small hills. There was no one to tell him to quit it, to shut up, to  _stop moving_ and he just jumped and ran and yelled nonsense, screamed until his vocal chords couldn't keep up. He stood on the dew-covered grass and just waved his hands at his sides, let it escalate, let his arms flap until his whole body was moving with the moment of it. He didn't stop the burning feeling of tears in his eyes, didn't hastily wipe them away as they fell onto his cheeks.

He let himself fall onto the grass, felt each blade stick to his skin, and didn't think about how it was the last time they were here, didn't think about how his family was probably looking for him- worried he was hurt or just angry about how  _stupid_ he was, because here he wasn't the screw-up, the good-for-nothing goofball, the guy who puts shit on his pizza so his Dad could look at him and see  _more_ -

Here, he was Hamato Michelangelo.

It was his happy place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr at sirwolficus.tumblr.com! Comments are appreciated! Let me know if there are any typos or mistakes :) please and thanks


	2. Ease your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoof sorry this took so long! good news is heres the new chapter!! got real busy at the end of the school year, what with summatives and exams and stuff. hope y'all enjoy!

_pizzamandirkins: Mikester! you still up for that meet-up?_

_pizzamandirkins: I swear i'm not some 40-year-old man catfishing you lol._

* * *

Bitter wind whistled past skyscrapers in the night, two dark silhouettes following against it. The air was thick with the smell of rain, the rooftops still freshly wet from a downpour. With two thuds, Donatello and Leonardo landed at their final stop, hugging against a doorway leading down inside the building below. Shivering, Donnie crossed his arms, rubbing his biceps in a vain effort to warm himself up. The silence between them was thick with tension, as it had been for the past three days, and will continue to be until their missing brother was found again. Pulling out his phone, Donnie checked the time. 4:47. The sun will be rising soon. He pocketed his phone once more and gave a nervous glance to his oldest brother. He had no idea how Leo felt about the whole situation- he seemed to be one of the most worried the entire first day, but after that it was more of just.. neutrality. And Donnie didn't know how he felt about that at all. In an attempt to create some kind of conversation, he clears his throat, earning a glance from Leo.

"You think it's possible he got kidnapped?" Donnie asked, fidgeting against his arms. Leo shrugs.

"Don't know who'd nab him. Definitely not the Dragons. And we haven't heard from Shredder for awhile." Leo turns back to looking across the rooftop, waiting for the others they're meant to meet back up with.

"Maybe this is what he returns with," Don points out. "Use one of us as bait, lure us to him, and try to kill us again."

"With Karai out there, and him trying to take over the criminal underworld? I think he has his hands busy."

"It was just a thought." He said, looking to the ground next to him. What he wouldn't give for Mikey to do something dumb. Play I-Spy or something inane like that. There'll be time for it when they get him back home, he supposes.

Few feet from them, two soft thumps are heard, and Leo turns to greet them. Donnie takes a moment to steel himself before going to join up as well. As he walks forward with Leo in front, he takes in the looks of disappointment on Raph and Splinter's faces. No luck there.

"Nothing?" Leo asks, quiet. Donnie can swear that the cold indifference on his face almost cracks for a moment.

"No." Splinter says, solemn. "Donatello, is there anywhere else we can check before we go back for the day?"

"No, Sensei," He says, head low. "We've already gone over all of his favourite spots, and the places where he gets distracted most easy." He doesn't dare look at Raph. "I think we'll have to look all over the city at this rate."

He flinches as Raph stabs one of his sai into the brick next to him. Doesn't chance a glance as he hears him seething. "Raphael," Splinter says, loud and grounding, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Calm yourself. We will find your brother."

"When he gets back here, I'm gonna beat him so bad he won't be able to walk for a  _week!_ " He growls out, wrenching out the sai from the wall.

"Raphael!" Splinter admonishes, giving him a firm look. "Do not speak that way of Michelangelo. He was troubled, and we must be ready to be supportive when he returns."

"If he returns  _alive_." Raph hisses under his breath. Splinter flicks an ear at the retort but says nothing as he leads his sons back down to their home. All the way down to the lair, Donnie couldn't tell if Raph meant that he would kill Mikey, or if he wasn't sure they'd find him breathing.

* * *

April rubbed at her eyes as she sat at the small table, breakfast waiting in front of her. Her head felt light, yet heavy at the same time. It was probably because of the amount of sleep she's been getting.

Now, she's never needed too much sleep. She can function just fine on 5-7 hours, probably can go for as little as two if needed. But for the past two nights she's been going to bed late and waking up much too early. Doesn't help that the turtles keep texting her updates of the same thing: Found nothing. Going to search tonight. Meet at usual place and time if you can.

She never does, though. Figured that it'd be a bit too much for her right now if she went out and spent a whole night searching for Mikey when she already knew where he was, especially with school starting less than a week ago. She may be a kunoichi, but she's also a high school student with an A-average. Rereading the texts sent that night, a now familiar pit formed in her stomach. Donatello's had a lot of detail, going over every place they searched, and the amount of nothing they saw. Leo's was much more too-the-point, as per usual, and she was worried about that. That sense of familiarity in a very-much not-familiar situation. Raph has only been saying one word, and nothing more; he didn't really need to say anything else. _Nothing_. It was hard, being in this kind of position, being torn between her loyalty to everyone in that family. She wanted Mikey to be happy, to work through everything he's had to deal with, but she also wanted to tell his brothers and father where he was, so that they could be at peace, know that he's safe.

But if she's anything, she's a teenager, and while she has had to fight for her life multiple times she knows nothing about how to deal with mutant-family-drama and so she will just stay put and hope everything turns out okay. She started to eat a piece of toast as her Dad sat down in front of her.

"Tired?" He asked. April just shrugged, a weak smile mirroring his own. He scratched his head as he buttered a bagel. "Tough few days, huh?"

"I'd say that's pretty accurate." She took another bite, absentmindedly chewing. "It's like every bit of drama that comes into their life I'm also dragged into it."

"Would you rather not know about it?" Kirby said pointing at her with his bagel.

She sighed. "No, I'm glad that I could help. But it's just so complicated." Another bite. "You'd think if you spent basically you're whole lives surrounded by the same people constantly, you wouldn't have these kinds of problems."

"Well, they may be mutants living in the sewer, but they're still a family. Four brothers that are all teenagers? It's going to cause some problems."

"Yeah." April finished off her first piece of toast. "Imagine if they were all normal people. I wonder if they would deal with this same sort of thing."

"Oh, definitely not." Kirby said, shaking his head for emphasis. "They'd have access to everything we do. Everything would be resolved before it even became a problem."

"Like risking their lives to save the world multiple times?"

"Okay, _that_ wouldn't be resolved. But you get my point."

April smiled as she went on with her breakfast in comfortable silence. Her dad had good points, but he also didn't know them as well as she did. She couldn't really deal with this on her own, and she wanted to be able to check on Mikey at some point. Or get someone to do it for her.

Quickly making up her mind, she opened her phone and pulled up Casey's number.

* * *

_pizzamandirkins: Mikey?_

_pizzamandirkins: Everything good over there? you usually aren't this quiet for so long :P_

* * *

"Casey!" April called out as she jogged into the cafeteria. Standing by a vending machine was Casey Jones, angrily kicking the side of the machine. At the sound of his name, he looked up, and immediately smiled as he saw who it was.

"Red!" He yelled, giving the vending machine one last kick. "Come over here and use your mind powers to get this thing unjammed!"

"I'm not going to do that, Casey." She sighed, looking through the glass amused as a bag of chips was shoved between the barrier and it's original spot. "Remember how I texted you this morning, and-"

"No no no. Hush for a second. Get me my chips." Casey punctuated his sentence by banging once again on the machine's glass.

"Casey. This is important."

"This is  _also_ important! I paid 2.75 for these things!" He crossed his arms, leaning against the vending machine. "I'm snacky, dude!"

"I always tell you the stuff in the machines is overpriced." April pointed out, crossing her arms as well.

"When you're hungry, you can overlook the price of good snack food."

"It's not good, it's been in there for at least six months."

"You're point is duly noted, and yet I still do not find myself caring."

"Fine! Okay! I'll get it out." April grumbled, facing towards the machine. She held out a hand in front of her, closely, and focusing for a few brief moments, she squinted slightly and dropped the hand down to her side. Following it, the bag of chips thumped on the bottom of the machine. Whooping, Casey shoved his hand into the retrieval box and started feverishly opening the bag and eating.

"So, what was this super-important thing you've been refusing to talk to me about until now?"

"It's about Mikey."

Throwing his hands up and losing a few chips in the process, Casey groaned. "You could have mentioned that earlier! I would've ditched the chips!"

"Seriously?" April asked, dumbfounded.

"Actually.." Casey thought, his face scrunching up. "I'd say it's about 60-40. In favour of the chips."

"Of course." She sighed, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind her. "Let's take a seat."

Finding two empty seats was easy. Getting Casey Jones to stop eating for more than five seconds was the hard part. But once situated with a now empty bag beside him, Casey leaned forward on the table, ready for whatever April had to say.

"So." April started, trying to get comfortable despite the unease crawling up her throat. "Mikey's still missing."

"Yep." He said. "Surprisingly, I know that, since I've lost hearing 'cause of Raph screaming at me about it."

"Yes." She says, and taps her fingers against the table. "And you already know all of the issues he's been dealing with since... well, basically his whole life."

"Yeah, Red." He rubs at his face, getting slightly bored. "What about all of it?"

"I may know..." She swallows, looking away. "Where he is."

At the silence that followed, she looked over, only to meet Casey shocked face and jaw wide open.

"What!?" He yelled, slapping his hands on the table. "You gotta tell the guys, April!"

"I can't! And quiet down, will you?" She said, sending an apologetic look to the people sitting a few chairs down from them.

"Why not!? They're freaking out!" He said, voice back to a normal volume.

"Mikey asked me not to." She confessed, rubbing the back of her neck. "He wants time alone. Away from everything. It was super impulsive of him, and he probably could have done something else, but now he's out of the city and I can only hope doing alright."

Casey groaned, sinking down until his face and half of his torso lay on the table. "Oh my god.." He mumbled.

"I was hoping you could keep quiet about this."

"Then why tell me!" He said, hands raising up but face remaining down. "Sooner or later it's gonna slip out, no matter how hard I try!"

"I wanted you to go visit him, and make sure he's okay." She patted his messy hair as his hands fell limp on the table. "You're better at this stuff than I am."

"Well I can't go tonight, Red." He said, rolling his face over so he could look up at her. "My Dad's gonna be home. If I sneak out, he'll kill me."

"I didn't mean tonight. Sometime soon." She said, concern evident on her face. "I think he needs someone right now, even if he won't really admit it."

"Ugh, fine." He said, lifting himself from the table. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At my farmhouse."

There was another thud as Casey dropped himself back down on the table.

* * *

_pizzamandirkins: I can see you've been reading these dude, did i piss you off or something?_

* * *

 There wasn't an alarm to wake him up that morning. Or the morning before. And before that. It's probably been almost a week now.

Michelangelo slowly sits up from the small twin sized bed he'd been sleeping in. It felt weird to sleep in the queen sized one, and he figured April wouldn't mind.

He looked outside the window, where the sun was steadily rising in the sky. it had to have been at least 7. He never woke up later than that, except maybe after a really stressful day. But, honestly, the past few days  _have_ been very stressful. He wandered through the hallways, hand lightly touching the wall as he descended the stairs. Something dark was twisted in his stomach, the kind of feeling he got when some big thing happened to disrupt his usual day. The feeling he got when he had to make a whole new routine to follow. It's been there ever since he showed up at April's window, and wouldn't go away since. But, if there's one thing he's good at, it's shoving things down until they're nothing. At least he had formed some kind of structure, as shaky as it was.

Opening the fridge, he took out two eggs and got out cooking supplies. Lighting the gas stove was always something he enjoyed- the clicking of the lighter and the gentle fwoosh of the flames. Just neat, is all. He carefully cracked the eggs over a pan and watched them slowly start to sizzle before putting another pan on top. Sitting at the dining table, he stared absently at the wood, slowly rubbing his hands against his legs. He breathed in, took in everything- the eggs cooking, the hum of appliances, the animals outside waking up and making noise- he should feed the chickens. There was also that pond he found the other day, he wanted to see how deep it was. Maybe there were some cool frogs there, and he could bring one back as a pet. Leo would probably say no to it. Everyone would, actually, but it didn't stop them from keeping ice-cream kitty, but they're bound to be angry after he's been gone for so long without a _word_ \--

Taking a shaky sigh, he looked back over to the eggs. The heat was low enough that he could let his mind wander for awhile without burning the eggs. He started tapping out a random rhythm on the tabletop, nodding his head to it. This was nice. The calmness, the domestic feel of it. It probably would be better if his brothers were here...

Shaking his head, Mikey got up and lifted the pan, carefully depositing the two eggs onto a waiting plate. Cutting into them at the table, the yolk wasn't as runny as it should have been. Another thing he messed up. Because he can't do anything right, nothing _nothing_ **_nothing_** , and his brothers are going to kill him no matter  _what_ he does-

Biting down on his lip, shutting his eyes so tightly it almost hurt, he didn't even realize he threw the knife until he heard the thwack of it getting stuck into the wall of the living room. He stared at it for a moment before sighing, putting his hands on his face. He knew he had to go home, had to face his family and try and get them to understand, or at least try and get everything back to normal. But that would entail so much that he either wasn't ready for, or didn't want to go back to. He didn't want to go back to having to deal with everything being too sensitive, or having to be ready everytime he opened his mouth for a brother to hit him. Didn't want to see Splinter's disappointed face again. Or worse, plain indifference. Because having your father look at you like you weren't anything was worse than having him look at you and hearing the words  _"Be more like your brothers"_ before they were even spoken.

But he also can't live the rest of his life here. His family probably needed him, not as much as _he_ needed _them_ but still. Here there wasn't enough to do. Most of the day he just thought, or went outside and explored, ran around and threw everything to the wind. He wouldn't be able to do that forever. He had no idea how long he could keep it up. Of course this place made him happy, but it made him happier when his family was here. When he could practice ninjutsu on the grass in the fresh morning other than in a dojo with stuffy air.

He wondered how Woody was. He felt bad, not being able to say goodbye to him, but he figured that Woody wouldn't be worried. He was just some kid on the internet, after all. There's a bunch of people like that. Well, none living the life he is, but the point is still there.

Stepping out onto the front lawn and watching the sun break through clouds as he does, he takes a deep breath. Taking a few steps, he settles into the familiar stance of a kata. It's one of the more advanced ones, one that Leo desperately wants to teach them, and Mikey was the only one willing because he loved to see the excitement in his oldest brother's eyes when he gets to do something he loves. He moves his foot forward, brings both his hands back before moving forward and thrusting his fists forward. Does a kick out. Continues with the same kata over and over until the sun is high in the sky, and his body is covered in sweat, and he feels somewhat at ease again. It's what he's been doing for the past few days, doing something somewhat normal. He's about to go around the house, and follow a small trail in the bush that he made to find that cool little pond again, when he hears a truck rumbling up the road. He tenses, immediately running inside the house. He knows it isn't his family- the Shellraiser sounds different, and the beat-up van they had before leans to the right, just enough that he can hear it in its wheels. The door locks behind him with a small click, and he sits by the stairs, an area where you can't be seen through the windows of the house. He sits and waits with bated breath, waiting for whoever it is to leave. It may be a human looking to sell something, or to find someone, and Mikey knows that he doesn't want to freak anyone out. There's knocking on the door, and he picks at the shag carpeting on the stairs, waiting for them to leave. The knocking starts again, louder this time. He bites on his tongue.

"Mikey?" Comes the muffled yell, behind the door. "Yo, man, it's Casey. You here?"

He freezes up at that. Casey? How did he know he was here? Unless April told him, and he was pretty sure she didn't, everyone must have started looking around other places for him.

At Mikey's silence, Casey speaks up again. "I'm alone, dude. I just wanted to see how you were doin', I swear."

He still isn't sure, since Casey and Raph are so close, but Mikey walks over to the door and slowly unlocks it anyway. When it swings open, Casey straightens, and he gives Mikey a weak smile.

"Hey, man." He says, hands in his pockets. "You look... like shit."

Mikey laughs, wipes at his eye. "Yeah, I guess that's about right. Feel like it."

He steps aside, letting Casey walk in. Sitting down on the couch, he waits for Mikey to join him, which he does hesitantly. He picks at the fabric next to him.

"How'd you know I was here?" He asks, quiet.

"April told me." Casey said, shrugging. "She's been worried. We haven't said anything to the guys, though." He adds quickly when he sees Mikey tense up. "This is kind of messed up, dude."

"Yeah. I know."

"I mean, I get needing a break every now and then, but.." He looks away, scratching at his chin. "Well, you know, it's a messed up situation too, I guess."

"Why are you here, Casey?" He asks, looking at the other boy again.

"Like I said, little dude." He shrugged. "Checkin' up on stuff. I heard you were really upset when you disappeared, and you still look upset."

"It's just.." He folded his arms behind his head, leaning back. "My family, Case'. They don't.. listen to me. And I mean, I get why, but it still hurts." He stared intently at the TV, the screen black. "I thought that, y'know, if I explained stuff to Don, he'd be on my side and explain everything way better to everyone else. But he didn't really believe me. And then they totally lose it when they find out I've been talkin' to some guy on the internet. Probably 'cause the last time it happened, I got kidnapped and almost killed, but it's not like last time."

"Hm." Casey tilted his head over to Mikey. "Gonna be honest, dude, I don't get it."

Mikey groaned.

"Hey! That doesn't mean I ain't here for you, Mikey." He put his hand on the turtle's shoulder. "My sister's kinda like this."

Mikey turned to him, his eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Yeah. 'S why I'm so easy-going with this stuff." He shrugged, letting himself sink into the couch. "She gets overwhelmed real easy. Really sensitive to stuff, and she has a real hard time reading things. She needs help a lot, and I'm always there, 'cause I care, I guess."

"Like me?"

"Sort of, little guy. And y'know how my Dad is. He ain't really the understandin' type. And I've seen the bad stuff that can do to people. He's not really a good guy, at all. He used to be, but now I'm the best role model my sister's got. So, uh, point is.. I don't really get it, dude, but I'm gonna try my best to help, okay?" He said, giving Mikey an awkward smile at the end. Michelangelo got up after a quiet moment, and gave him a tight hug, squeezing a wheeze out of Casey as he wrapped his arms around the turtle in return.

"Thanks, Casey." Came the quiet response to the other's monologue.

"So, I'm done talking about all of my life's woes. Why don't you want your brothers to find you, bud?" Casey said as Mikey pulled out of the hug and sat down beside him.

"Well, I just know that they're gonna be really mad, and.. I don't know if I can deal with that." He crossed his arms, leaning into the cushions of the couch. "Here I don't really have anything to worry about anything but myself. And I know for sure I can't do that forever, but.. but I can't bring myself to see them. Because it's gonna be nothin' but  _'that was so stupid, Mikey'_ and  _'I'm gonna pound you, Mikey'_. 'Cause I'm just the dumb one, and this is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done."

"Hey, Mike, you're not dumb." Casey said, leaning slightly on Mikey. "Sure, you don't pay attention much, and you think in a different way than everyone, but that don't make you dumb."

"My brothers think I'm dumb. Even Sensei."

"Well.. prove to them that you're not."

"It's not that easy, Casey."

He shrugged. "Well, like I said dude, I don't really understand all that's goin' on."

Mikey leaned back on Casey and gave him a small smile. "You're doing your best though."

Casey smiled back at Mikey, flashing his tooth gaps, and they settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Mikey rolling over their conversation in his head. He probably definitely needed to go back home and face everything. Rip off the bandaid, as they say. But he wasn't sure if he was ready. He was pretty sure he wasn't.

But, he also wasn't ready to fight the Kraang, or Shredder, or any other of the jerks he had to fight when they first started going above ground every night, and they won most of the time. And it was hard at first, but it got easier. So why did this have to be any different?

Standing up, Mikey bounced to his feet, and beamed at Casey. Casey, understandably, was very confused at the sudden mood change from his formerly silent companion.

"There's this cool pond I found yesterday and I wanted to go mess around in the mud and look for frogs. You wanna come with me?" He said, holding out his hand.

A familiar mischievous glint appeared in Casey's eyes as he grabbed Mikey's hand and pulled himself off the couch with far more power than necessary. "You  _know_ it!"

* * *

_pizzamandirkins: Are you okay? did something happen?_

_MyKaleAndJello: He's not here right now._

_pizzamandirkins: Then who's this?_

* * *

The sun set behind tall buildings as a rockety truck pulled up in front of a run-of-the-mill apartment complex, in front of which a very tired and impatient April O'Neil was standing, arms crossed and scowl on her face. Clambering out of the vehicle to face her, Casey rubbed at the back of his neck and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry I was late, Red. Got a bit distracted."

"I can see that." She said, arms unfolding to rest on her hips. "You're lucky I'm on such good terms with Mrs. Leeman, or she would've given you another detention."

"Shucks, you do so much for me."

"Oh, quiet." Turning to head inside and get a full report from her friend, she paused before looking down at his legs and feet. "Why.. are you covered in mud?"

Casey simply grinned. "Frog huntin'."

As they both walked inside, a looming shadow standing on the rooftop across the street watched, silent. His phone buzzed for a fourth time, another admonishment for ditching his brother, a plea for him to meet up again and not go stalking off in silent rage. But as the minutes went by and Casey brought April up to speed on Michelangelo's current wellbeing, he only felt a burning anger build up in the lava pit that has been boiling for so long.

It was only when Casey came back out again and climbed up into the old pickup that he moved again. Folding in and out of shadows, movements unhearable as he crosses to an empty street. The pickup roared, and he moved to jump onto the roof of the vehicle.

Casey screamed out as two sais punctured the top of his dad's pickup that he may or may not have taken without permission. He frantically slammed on the gas pedal in an effort to get the attacker off-- he didn't need the foot to return with an attack on  _him! NOT TODAY!_ He heard two loud thunks on the passenger side window, and after much internal debate he looked over to his right to see...

An absolutely fuming Raphael. Which is much scarier than any foot ninja.

He maybe gave out a particularly loud squeak at that, not that he'd admit it, and skidded to the side of the road and haphazardly parking. Jumping out and slamming the door shut, he pivoted and glared into his best friend's eyes.

"What the hell, man!? Who said that you could use my Dad's truck as a skewer!?"

Raph used his sai to point at the other boy's chest. "You were the one gone all day! You said we would patrol tonight!"

"Ah shit, did I?" Casey said, anger dissipating. "Sorry, man, honest mistake. But that doesn't give you the right to wreck my stuff!"

"You knucklehead! I don't give a shit about yer truck. Where were ya?!"

"None of your business." Casey scoffed, looking pointedly at the hood of the pickup. He gulped as he felt the sharp end of a sai daintily poke at his throat. "I was.. out." A pause and glance at Raph's unwavering furious look. "Looking."

"For what?" He growled out, moving his sai back in his belt.

"Really? For Mikey, dude." Casey shook his head. "Why else?"

Raph squinted his eyes. "You seemed pretty happy seein' April for someone who didn't find nothin'."

Casey gulped. "I like hangin' with April. 'S all."

A tense silence filled the air between them. After a few moments, Casey coughed awkwardly, and moved to get back into the pickup and get home.

"Well, uh, I'll see ya later, Raph. I got this math test tomorrow and I prob'ly should try and figure out how to do the whole soh ca-"

Metal puncturing beside his head was enough to make him stop in his tracks and look back at Raph, mouth dry and words tumbling back down his throat. He stared up into cold, white eyes as a low growl filled the air. "You know where my little brother is," he seethed.

"And you're gonna fuckin' tell me."

* * *

_MyKaleAndJello: His brother._

_MyKaleAndJello: I was going to delete his account._

_pizzamandirkins: So you've been waiting to delete his account for... a week and a half?_

_MyKaleAndJello: Well yes._

_MyKaleAndJello: And no._

_MyKaleAndJello: But mostly yes._

_pizzamandirkins: Well which brother is this then?_

_MyKaleAndJello: Irrelevant._

_pizzamandirkins: Seems relevant to me since it seems you're gonna delete his account and only way of contacting me without his permission :/_

_MyKaleAndJello: It's none of your business, Woody._

_pizzamandirkins: Yeah but you see it really is my business, since hes my friend and all_

_MyKaleAndJello: You know nothing about him! How can you really be friends._

_MyKaleAndJello: I've spent all of my life with him, Mr. Dirkins. This is a family matter and you will stay out of it._

_pizzamandirkins: I know that you always shut him down. and i know that he doesn't feel safe at home anymore. and that he doesn't think he's worth anything to you guys_

_pizzamandirkins: Did you know all that?_

 

It's not true. It's not true. It's not true.

But actually taking the time to read through all of the chatlogs that Mikey and this Woody kid had...  _He couldn't have felt that way. Could he?_

Raising his head to meet Donnie's wet eyes, he felt a wide variety of emotions rush through him. Being the eldest, Leo was supposed to be the turtle his younger brothers could depend on, the one that would be there to support them and guide them through difficult aspects of their life that their father just didn't understand as thoroughly. And it hurt, seeing Mikey trust someone he's known for maybe two months at most with things that are so important to him. So crucial. And he could see that it hurt Donatello too. 

"I'm sorry." Donnie whispered out. "I just- I got so mad, and I..."

"I get it." Leo said, because he couldn't say it was okay. Nothing about this was okay. "I just wish you would've told me you were.. you know."

"I meant to just delete it. But he kept messaging, and I was curious as to what he was saying."

Leo nodded, setting the old phone gently onto the kitchen counter in front of them. Don had run in while he was making tea, eyes tearing up and angry, scared, confused. Leo gets it. He's been feeling like that this entire time.

And what Michelangelo had said the night before he ran off was true- he hadn't said a word about anything. Most of what they talked about was cooking and games; Woody introducing him to the new ones and Mikey rambling about the older games that they could get a hand on through scavenging. There were late night conversations where Mikey would pour his heart out to this kid, explain how he struggled and it was hard "since his family was poor". He never said anything about them being mutants, about their father being a ninja master training them (though he did offhandedly mention that they all were interested in traditional japanese culture), only that he had three older brothers and two friends, other than Woody.

Woody, in turn, opened up to him as well- nothing as deep and heartwrenching as when Mikey spoke, but it was still him talking about hard things in his life. Being made fun of when he was younger, learning to defend himself against bullies. Mike even offered tips that he's learned from Raph and Leo, even crediting them on it. Most of the time when he talked about his brothers, he was showering them in praise, talking about how much he cherished his family. How he understood everything about them. The other times..

The other times Leo thinks he was being honest with himself.

He silently met Donatello's eyes, and they just looked at each other for a moment, both mulling everything over.

Leonardo looked to the counter below. "I want to find him." He said quietly.

Donnie didn't have to say it for the both of them to hear.  _I was afraid you didn't._

"There is a place we haven't looked." Don said, fidgeting with his hands. "But it's out of the city. I'd have no idea how he'd got there."

Leo gulped at the mention of that place. He never wanted to go back. The memories associated were too bitter, too filled with fear and desperation.

"Seems like we'll have to pay April a visit."

* * *

 

There was no frantic knocking on the door that evening. No rolling of car wheels on the gravel road or footsteps coming to the door. Just the TV playing quietly in front of Mikey as he sat hunched on the couch, deeply engrossed in a sketch of the Mutanimals he was doing on a scrap piece of paper. A sticky note sat in front of him on the coffee table, reminding himself that when he eventually looks up and turns off the TV he needs to go and get more food. He's been sitting there for a few hours at least, other sketches scattered beside him.

Still, being a trained ninja, he should have been aware of the faint rustling outside. Of how the wind didn't quite hit the front door as it usually did. Though, looking back he was sure he wouldn't have been able to escape who was outside for long.

The door flew open with a loud creak, wood splintering around the now-broken lock as Raphael ran in like a storm, head snapping and meeting Mikey's eyes with a pale whiteness that meant nothing good. He screamed, was screaming, and all of his art supplies were now abandoned as he scrambled to find something he could easily use as a weapon against his irate brother.

 _"YOU!"_ Raphael bellowed as he threw one of his sai at his youngest brother's head. Mikey ducked, rolled over to an empty vase, grabbing it by the thin top and holding it at his side at the ready. "You  _idiot!_ You fucking lunatic! I'm going to kill you!"

"What the  _hell_ , Raph!?" Michelangelo screamed in return as he blocked Raph's blows with the plastic vase. He knew his brother's fighting style, and now standing on a smooth wooden floorboard he found himself focusing on the battle that much more. As Raph spewed insults, he got sloppier, his distress making him forget crucial parts of his training. Mikey watched carefully, waiting for an opening. "A knock would be nice!"

" _You disappeared for two fucking weeks!_ _"_ He screamed. "We didn't know if you were captured, or dead, or  _what!_ And yet here you are doing jack shit!"

"Like  _you_ would care!" Mike spat back. "You don't give two shits about me, Raph! I'm surprised you even  _came!_ _"_

There. As Raph got ready to strike with his remaining sai, Mikey ducked and hit Raph's hand with the vase, the sai scattering across the floor. Before Raph could retaliate, the younger turtle slid across the floor and grabbed the sai before ripping it's twin from the wall. He gave a quick, silent apology to April. He stood in a ready stance, sai at the ready, daring Raph to come forward.

The older turtle stood, hunched and panting, shaking from the adrenaline and the rage. He glared at Mikey, fists clenching and unclenching. It took him a few moments to realize that Raph was on the verge of tears.

"I'm bringin' you home. Even if I have to drag you all th' way there or not." Raph growled, making no move to come closer.

After a moment, Mikey broke the tense silence that had formed. "How'd you even get here?" He didn't dare risk to look outside to prove his theory.

"None of yer business." Raph said, low.

"You  _ran_ here? Are you insane?" Mikey said, shocked. He lowered the sai ever so slightly. What kind of a madman was he?

"Oh, you're one to talk!" He spit, pointing an accusing finger at Mikey. "You're the one who ran out of the lair without his phone or weapons! We've been worried sick!"

"You don't even care why I did, though, right!?" He yelled back.

"It doesn't matter, you shithead! You left us!"

"Because I  _hated being with you guys!"_

The air was palpable with the questions unasked and unanswered. Michelangelo took in a deep breath, before shutting his eyes and bringing his head down. The sais clattered from his hands as he fell onto his knees, holding his face in his hands.

"I couldn't take it anymore." Came the muffled continuation. "It's like you guys don't care about me. I had to leave."

Raph stood before his younger brother as if a statue. His throat was dry, unworking. His hands twitched, desperate to hold his younger brother and comfort him but the solution wasn't as simple as that. "I..." He started, stopped. Wind howled through the open door as the sun continued to set, the world moving around them, uncaring to what was happening in their tiny world. "We care about you, Michelangelo." Raph said quietly, voice rough with emotion. He tried to bundle it down, to get control of himself but he couldn't focus long enough without looking at his brother and a new wave of regret and guilt washed over him. At Mikey's continued unnerving silence, he shifted, and hesitantly pressed forward. "Why would you think we didn't?"

At this, Michelangelo looked up, looking tired and so, so much younger without his mask. "You really don't know? You couldn't have figured it out?" He moves so that he's sitting, leaning against the wall, knees brought up to his chest and cheek resting on them. "You..." He trailed off, afraid. He had no plan for this. He wasn't ready. 

Raphael carefully sat down next to him, Mikey looking away from him. He sat far enough away that he wasn't touching his brother, but still close enough that he could feel the faint warmth coming from him. He watched him for a few moments before staring at the wall ahead of him. "Tell me, Otōto." He pushed, soft.

"You guys always hit me." He said, voice wet and body quivering. Trying to hide his tears. "It's not normal. I know it isn't. You never listen to me, you treat me like I'm- I'm just some dead weight you gotta lug around. Like I'm good for nothing. Which is accurate." He said that last part with a sad, quiet laugh. "I'm not good at anything. I'm a bad ninja, a bad brother, I can't even think properly-" He's cut off by a choking noise, hunching in on himself as he tries to quiet the sounds of his own crying. Raphael sits beside him, not knowing what to do. "I can't even remember anything. No matter how much I want to."

"Mikey, I..." The words were lost on him. He tried to think of how his little brother could have been feeling after thinking these things for so long.

"You're not useless, little brother." He didn't know what else to say.

The only sounds in the house were Michelangelo trying and failing to hold himself together, as cold wind blew in through the door and the night began. Hesitantly, Raphael reached around his younger brother's shoulders, gently pulling him onto his plastron. Going limp, Mikey let himself sob onto his older brother's chest, uncaring. Raph silently rubbed at his shoulder, guilt churning deep within his gut.

After a long silence following Mikey's cries, Raph spoke up. "You don't have to come home with me," he whispered into the eery house. Mikey was silent against him. "But can you please.. come home tomorrow? Or at least soon? Because this.. isn't how you're gonna solve this."

"I know." Mikey said quietly into his brothers chest.

More quiet moments passed.

"I'm sorry, Michelangelo." Raphael whispered against his brothers head, laying against it in a vain attempt to comfort them both. "I am. I never wanted you to.. think this way 'bout yourself."

A few beats passed. "I know," was the nearly inaudible response.

They both sat, listening to the quiet sounds of rain beginning to fall and harsh winds battering the old frame of the house. They were both tired, emotionally exhausted, but neither could sleep. Still tense from the earlier conversation. It was progress, that much was for sure. But so much still had to be fixed. They had only put a band-aid on the unstable scaffolding of their family. The familiar position was comforting to them both though. Mikey sighed silently, head resting now on Raph's shoulder. The cool wood underneath him was grounding, and for the first time in a while he almost felt.. safe.

The rain started to thunder down against the closed windows, chill coming in through the open doorway. Glancing up, he could see Raph staring resolutely at the wall across from him, but looked down to meet his gaze after a few moments. A feeling of safety washed through them both, of the familiarity in such an unfamiliar situation. Mikey sighed, his head softly hitting the top edge of his older brother's plastron. He closed his eyes, and let sleep wash him away.

* * *

 

_pizzamandirkins: Just let me know if he's okay, alright?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really thought i could write this in only two chapters. oh well. i'll eat my own ass i guess. between this chapter and the next i actually might write a drabble based on sam & max so like if any of you guys know what that is then by all means please pester me with questions about it on tumblr. also tmnt. just talk to me about my hyperfixations.  
> also if you pay me five bucks i'll write you something! literally anything. other than smut. i have 3 dollars in my bank account and no job please


	3. Come Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CRAWLS UP FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL... IT'S HERE.... I FINISHED IT...... I'M STILL ALIVE..... i think this'll be the first multi-chapter fanfic i've ever actually finished.. thank you cavetown for remaking 'this is home' and having it give me sad michelangelo vibes for some reason. ANYWAY i really hope you guys enjoy, i've been in a rough spot for awhile now and it's been hard to get the motivation to finish this. im honestly proud of this story too. PLEASE come talk to me about TMNT on tumblr (sirwolficus.tumblr.com)
> 
> fun fact when i was like almost fully done with this fic i lost HALF OF IT and because my memory is Terrible i dont remember exactly what i wrote and im dumb and i dont save my writing
> 
> SO. ORIGINALLY. there was a scene where leo n donnie have a good ol' heart to heart and donnie's like im insecure!!! and leos like fuck man what is up with my family!! and then donnie sort of apologizes to mikey and then THAT was gonna be the end but on god i do NOT have the energy to rewrite all of that

When Raph woke up sun was already filtering in through the windows, and his back hurt from sleeping upright. Still groggy from waking up, he reached for his T-Phone only to remember that it was abandoned on some New York rooftop, left because he didn't want anyone following him. He rubbed at his face, regaining his bearings as he fully woke himself up. However, a sudden realization bolted through him, snapping him awake as he quickly looked down beside him, where Mikey had been lying against him- only to find nothing.

Throwing himself up to his feet and quickly looking around the living room panic settled into his chest at the thought that Mikey had probably used his unconscious state to his gain and ran off somewhere else, and Raph would have to find him  _again_ , and he didn't know if he could _do that **again**_ \--

As he rushed to the kitchen doorway, he stopped in his tracks and his mind reeled to a halt. The panic dulled down as he watched Mikey quietly making an omelette, humming a made-up tune as he carefully slid a worn spatula under the meal and checked the underside of it. After a few quiet moments, he looked behind him and met Raphael's eyes, and gave an awkward smile as he grabbed a plate from beside him and held it out. "I, uh.. I made breakfast."

Raph swallowed and nodded, silently taking the plate from him and sitting down at the small dining table. After a short silence Mikey sat down as well, handing Raph a fork, and they ate in palpable silence. "So..." Mikey spoke up, holding up the whole omelette with his fork. "You, uhm, broke April's door last night."

Raph grunted, turning around to see the front door splintered around the lock, hanging loosely by its hinges, threatening to collapse entirely. There was duck tape across the wood just underneath it. "Why.. is there duck tape on it."

"You made, like, a  _super_ big crack in it! I figured I'd fix it up best I could so that April isn't too mad." Mikey shrugged, smiling at his older brother. There was still tension underlying the light-hearted conversation, and Raph didn't want to pretend that this was okay, and that everything was going back to normal. He turned back around and caught Mikey's eye, holding his gaze for a few moments before averting his eyes to the plate in front of him. He couldn't talk about this while looking at him.

"I'll try not to hit you outside of trainin'." He said, poking around his now lukewarm breakfast.

Mikey made a small choking noise. "What?" He mumbled, egg still in his mouth.

"Last night, you said..." He sighed, hand going to his forehead and grumbling. "Look, Mike, this is hard for me."

"No, no, I heard you, I just.." Mikey swallowed, not taking his eyes off of Raph. " _Bro_ , I didn't think you'd turn around so easily." He laughed dryly, something afraid lying in the undertones of it.

Raph swallowed, throat dry, and he forced himself to look up to his youngest brother. "Mikey, I don't  _ever_  want you to feel like.. like you feel now. That..." He clenches his hands into fists, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I love you, little brother."

Mikey's eyes were wide at the statement, heart beating in his chest. He smiled shakily, eyes welling up. It had been so long,  _so long_ since he had heard Raphael say that. Say that to _him._  "I.. I love you too, big brother." He said, shaky. Raph nodded, the tension between them dying.

"I want you to know I'm sorry." He said, quiet, still resolutely looking at Mikey. He was afraid if he looked away, he would never be able to force himself to say what he needed to. "I'm- I'm so sorry, Mikey." His voice broke, emotions churning inside him, but he refused to stop. "I'm gonna try my best to be better, okay? I'm gonna try an' understand how you work, and I'm gonna be the best big brother you can hope for."

Mikey laughed at that, a tear slipping down his cheek before he could wipe it away. "Raph, I don't want you to change everything about yourself!" He moved across the table so that he held Raph's hand in his own. "I just want you to be a bit nicer."

"Then I'll do it." He said, vow solemn and eyes hard with determination. "For you."

Mikey snorted, rolling his eyes. "Who  _else_  would you do it for?"

"Not Casey." They both said at the same time, and laughed together for the first time in a long, long time.

* * *

  _MyKaleAndJello: Hello Woody. This is Leonardo._

_pizzamandirkins: Uh hey?_

_pizzamandirkins: Why are you messaging me?_

_MyKaleAndJello: To thank you for being there for my little brother._

_MyKaleAndJello: And that, yes, he will still be meeting up with you._

* * *

"Can you believe that!?" Mikey exclaimed, feinting a punch before swinging his leg and trying to catch Raph's own, foiled only by Raphael catching his own leg and tossing him to the side, where Mikey simply got back up from the ground and spit out some stray grass. "It's unbelievable! Do you believe it!? NO!" The smile he was wearing seemed to be brighter than the sun.

They were out in the front, sparring like they would at home, but with a lighter feel to it. Their weapons were off to the side, lying against a tree in the shade. There was no pressure to find a champion, or a feeling of a judging eye watching them. It was just sparring for the sake of sparring, to waste time and exercise and get closer as brothers. Something they haven't done since they started defending New York City. Raph wasn't even being as competitive.

"I can too, bucket head, now get back here so I can kick your shell!"

Well, he was trying.

_Before the match had started, Mikey had held back on the steps, not meeting his eyes. "What? You don't wanna do this anymore?" Raph had pushed._

_"I do, it's just..." Mikey tapped his pointer fingers together, not meeting his eyes. "You just get really intense during sparring, and you say stuff, and.."_

_"Well? Spit it out, am I gonna have to stop bein' competitive with you now or somethin'?"_

_"No! No, it's just..." He rubs the back of his neck now, finally looking at his older brother. "You say stuff that kinda makes me feel really bad. About how I fight. And stuff. Nevermind. It's stupid." He brushes it off, walking down the front steps to meet with Raph._

_"What? No, it ain't stupid, it ain't stupid if it makes you upset." He forces out, trying to speak before his mind can get caught in a circle of guilt. "Here, I'll try an' lay off, okay?"_

_Mikey had smiled. "Okay."_

Now they were going again, both of them having been thrown into the grass more than once, sweat collecting as the sun rises higher. Neither of them know how long they've been doing this. "Just 'cause it's illegal don't mean he wouldn't do it, y'know, just for fun." The last part of his sentence came out in a grunt as he swiped again at his brother, a huff coming out of him as Mikey dodges out of the way at the last moment, taking the opening and striking his side. "Gah, lucky shot!"

"Why thank you," Mikey practically purrs, gloating just for too long to allow Raph to get him back with a swift kick to the back of his knees, which Mikey makes a surprised noise at, and moves to regain ground with a back walkover. "It's totally wack, bro! You can't tell me humans do that all the time!"

"Taking a car for a joyride before yer legally allowed to isn't that unheard of, little bro." Another punch that meets air. "Stop movin' so fast!"

"You can't catch air, bro!" He goes for a kick but misjudges the distance. "'Sides, even if other kids do it, Woody's a good guy! I was like,  _woah, bro! What!?_  when he first told me and he was like  _yeah man I totally almost hit a stray dog!_  and then I-  _oof!_ _"_

The air was knocked out of his chest as Raph's foot connected with his chest, and he fell to the ground, Raph standing on top of him, smug satisfaction on his face. "Got ya." He laughed out, smirking at Mikey's little pout. "What would Woody say if he saw you get beat like that, huh?"

"He'd say it ain't over!" Mikey suddenly yelled, grabbing onto Raph's ankle and flipping him over with a satisfying squeak of surprise coming from the older turtle. His shell thudded against the grass and Mikey stood on him, both feet on his plastron, shaking his hands together as if egging on a crowd. Raph stared up at him, shocked. It had been years since Mikey had beat him with such finality in a sparring session.

He was _proud_.

After a few moments of Mikey revelling in the fake-love of a fake-audience, he smiled down at his brother and stepped off of his chest, offering down a hand to bring him up.

It was moments like these, where his brothers would offer to help him up, that he would usually grunt and slap their hands away, getting up on his own. He did it after lost sparring sessions, and he did it when he was hurt. At some point in his life, he had told himself that accepting that hand meant weakness, meant needing someone to do something so simple, and it had stuck with him. The last time it had happened with Mikey, he had hurt his leg, and he just wanted to get to the kitchen to eat breakfast with his family. Mikey had been there in his room- not because he was invited, because he refused to leave- and offered him that hand. Then, Raph had snapped at him, yelling something at him that had never registered in his head but had left Mikey looking hurt before he plastered on that dumb smile again. Then, Raph had forced himself up and bit down on his cheek to hide the pain it caused him, and hobbled out by himself. That was then.

Now, he grabs onto his baby brother's hand and lifts himself up with the help of an anchoring force. With the help of someone he'd sworn to protect the moment he had fully understood what those words meant. He wonders idly when he had forgotten that promise.

"How'd you get so good at fightin'?" He rumbles out, staring wide eyed at his brother.

"Huh? Oh!" He starts, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, not even taking a second to revel in the moment that just happened. He acted like it wasn't something big, a small gesture that made Raphael realize so many things about himself, about what their relationship had become. "It's easier for me to concentrate on grass."

"It's easier for you..." The wheels in Raph's head turned slowly. "...because of the grass."

"Yeah, bro! The mat in our dojo messes me up." He starts stretching, heaving a sigh at a quiet crack that comes from some part of his body. Raph shakes his head, an old memory coming back to the surface.

"Like first day of trainin', you said you couldn't focus!" He exclaims, pointing at Mikey like he had just pieced together a huge puzzle. "You said it made your feet feel weird, then Donnie started poutin' and you shut up about it!"

"I did?  _I DID!"_  Mikey yelled in return, arms thrown to the sky now. "Bro! You  _remember_  that? That was forever ago!"

"I didn't know it affected you so much! Holy shit, Mikey, what about when we fight on the streets?"

"The rocks sort of muck up my mojo sometimes but I'm getting better at fighting on rooftops 'n' stuff!"

Raph laughed putting a hand to his forehead. "That is insane, bro."

Mikey laughed, the smile on his face weirdly feeling natural. Raph wonders if it's because he hasn't seen one like it for so long.

"I think you'd like Woody, dude." Mikey continues, back to their old topic. "He's kind of like a weird mix between you, me, and Leo!"

"No Donnie in that?" He asked, mind still reeling.

"Nah, he isn't as smart as Dee." He shrugs, kicking at the grass. He looked up at the sky, his mood seeming to go down a somber road. Raph may have never been good at connecting with his brothers, but he knew how to read them like a book. That didn't mean he knew what to say to them though, in moments like these, where when they were in good moods something unnoticeable happens and suddenly they're upset, but he knows that when this happens he needs to do something to stop them from stamping down their emotions until its crumpled into a tiny ball deep inside them. Because that's what he does, and he knows it isn't good.

"Hey," He says, standing beside Mikey, looking ahead to the hills beyond the farmhouse. "What's up?"

Mikey takes a stuttering breath, before releasing it. He doesn't stop looking up. "It's about somethin' Don said to me."

"What did he say?" He pushes, trying to be gentle, but he never did like pretending his brothers were like glass and a single wrong word would shatter them. Because that's not what they were like.

"I tried tellin' him about everything. Woody said it would be good." He crossed his arms, rubbing his biceps with his hands as if suddenly cold. "I told him what I thought was wrong with me."

"Y'think somethin's wrong with you?" He asks suddenly, looking at Mikey. The knew knowledge sends a shock running through his body.

"Obviously something is, Raph." Michelangelo says, meeting his brother's eyes. "You've said it to me so much I figured I'd look into it."

The sentence is like a punch to the gut, and he can barely muster up the air to continue. "What.. did you find?"

"Human brain disorders. I thought, since we're basically half-human, maybe we would be affected by that stuff. And, yo, I think I was right."

"But Donnie didn't agree with you."

"He sort of did, but he sort of didn't?" He shrugged. "He said that, yeah, I probably have ADHD, but I don't have Autism."

Raph swallowed dryly. "I.. don't know what that stuff is." Surprisingly, Mikey began laughing at that. Raph stood rigid beside him, face going hard. "What's so funny, knucklehead?"

"I-I just forgot that we live in a sewer, and-and there is practically no way you could'a learned this stuff without lookin' on the internet!" His laughing died down. "I totally forgot that you didn't know!"

Raph huffs and rolls his eyes. He glances up at the sun in the sky. He should be leaving soon, if he wanted to get back before their family decides a road trip up here would be a good idea. "Hey, with the mat thing.." He starts, rolling the words around in his mind before settling on what to say. ".. is that, like, a thing? To do with what you think is up with your head?"

"Yeah." Mikey says, leaning against Raph. He doesn't take another moment to sling an arm over his baby brother's shoulders. 

"Can you explain it to me?" He asks, leaning back against Mikey. "Before I head out?"

"I'll try." He responds, eyes flitting closed to revel in the moment between them.

* * *

_MyKaleAndJello: i just dont understand_

Leonardo and Splinter were jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the moon setting beside them as morning threatened to fall on them. They were meant to be looking for Raphael, who had disappeared the day before without a word, but he couldn't stop thinking about the conversations he read through before. He had the old phone with him, and as he slowed to run behind his father, he couldn't help but open it and continue reading an older conversation.

_MyKaleAndJello: its like they think i cant hear them or like think for myself at all_

_pizzamandirkins: Have you told them that?_

_MyKaleAndJello: well ive t r i e d but they never listen_

_MyKaleAndJello: im just useless in our dynamic kinda_

_MyKaleAndJello: they dont even like me at all_

_pizzamandirkins: Bullshit, brothers are always gonna be there for you no matter what_

_MyKaleAndJello: but they don't care about me  
_

_MyKaleAndJello: and we're supposed to be this super close family_

_MyKaleAndJello: and i cant help thinking that maybe they arent as good people as i /think/ they are_

"Leonardo." Splinter's voice echoed in his ears as he raised his head from the phone. He hadn't realized he had stopped running behind his father. He swallowed and looked back down at the phone. "You must stop reading through Michelangelo's private conversations."

"I know, Sensei, I just.." His eyes scanned a message further down in their conversation.

_MyKaleAndJello: i just wish i could like move somewhere else and have them be happier /without/ me_

_MyKaleAndJello: rather then have em be upset all the time /with/ me_

Splinter rested his hand on Leo's shoulder, his face soft and full of sympathy. "Leonardo-"

"I know, we should focus on finding Raph, and _then_ getting Mikey, I just _can't_ -" He sucked in some air. "I can't stop thinking about this. He couldn't have really thought this way about us, right?"

Splinter sighed and kneeled in front of his son, lowering to about the same height. "You're brother was very troubled when he left, and I fear he has been troubled for a very long time."

"But he always seemed so- so  _happy_." Leo sputtered out.

"When someone is very hurt, they tend to hide it from the people around them." Splinter was stroking his shoulder, and he idly realized he had started tearing up. "While I wish to say that it was not from our doing, I believe that it was."

"But- But why?" Leo said, staring at his father intensely, mask of calm seriousness shattered on the ground between them.

"You're brother has always worked in a different sense than us, and I had thought that you had accepted that part of him. Recently, however, I have realized that you have not." Splinter sighs, working to word this in a way his eldest son would understand.

"What? We always accepted him-" Leo started, but was silenced when Splinter began speaking again.

"I know that, my son, what I mean is that you.. that  _we_ have not accepted that his mind works differently than to our own."

They were quiet as a car drove past them on the street below.

"I.. was afraid.. to speak to the four of you about it," Splinter continued, quiet. "because I did not know _how_ to speak to you about it. But I do believe that Michelangelo has these issues he spoke to his friend and Donatello about."

Leo's eyes widened at that and a spark of shock ran through him. "Donnie knew-"

"Yes." Splinter said, solemn. "He did not fully believe Michelangelo. He still does not."

"But with everything Mikey said.."

"I know." Splinter stood, and scanned the street below for a manhole cover. The sun was starting to rise. "Which is why it is very important we find your brothers."

"Do you think they were taken?" Leonardo said, schooling his face back into neutrality. The emotions inside him continued to turn uncomfortably. "By the foot, maybe?"

Splinter shook his head. "Michelangelo is probably staying at Miss O'Neil's farm house, like Donatello suggested, and Raphael has probably found him there."

"I would expect Raph to be back by now, dragging him by the ankle." Leo said, not entirely joking.

"Raphael is more understanding than one would expect, my son." He said, climbing down a fire escape to the street. Leo followed, hanging on every word. "I believe that, perhaps, Michelangelo has forced him to listen to what he has to say."

Leo was silent as they moved the cover and sank down into the depths of their home, and walked beside his father lost in thought. "Father," Leo started, swallowing again. His throat was suddenly very dry. "What are we going to do when Mikey comes back?"

"We will listen to him," Splinter said, placing a hand on Leo's shoulder. "And we will accept him as we should have long ago."

* * *

 It took Raph a full day of sprinting as fast as he could to make it back to New York City, and another few hours just to make it back to the lair. He was dirty and out of breath, hungry and dreading the conversations that were about to happen as he jumped over the turnstiles into his home.

"Hey," He called out into the quiet lair. "'M back."

There was a scuffling noise before he heard a loud shout from Donatello, relief and frustration evident in his voice. _"Raphael!"_ He ran out of his lab, grease on his hands as he pulled up welding goggles, face contorted in anger. "Where have you _been_!? You were gone for _days_ , without even a _text message_ , we thought you got _kidnapped_ -"

"I found Mikey." Raph said, arms crossed. Donnie stopped in his tracks, quiet for a few moments.

"Well then," He started, arms thrown outward to the side, " _where is he!?"_

"At the farmhouse." He shrugged, too tired to argue with an angry Donnie. He started to walk past him towards his room.

_"WHY!?"_ Donnie screamed, staring at him incredulously before trailing him to his bedroom. "Where are you going!?"

"To get some sleep." He huffed out, opening his door.

"I don't think so!" Donnie yelled, grabbing onto Raph's arm and starting to drag him to the main room. "I am going to get some  _answers!"_

"Lemme go!" Raph yelled back, trying to wrench himself from Donnie's surprisingly strong grip.

"Why didn't you bring him back with you!?" Donnie yelled, throwing his immediate older brother into the pit.

"He didn't want to come back yet!" Raph yelled back, standing in front of Donnie with his fists at his sides, hands shaking.

"That's not up to him, Raph! He doesn't know what's good for him!" Donnie was frantically gesturing with his hands now, frustration rolling off him in waves.

"Mikey knows what he needs." Raph growled, voice low and threatening. Donnie rolled his eyes.

"He can barely think for himself, and you not doing the right thing is only indulging him and encouraging his behaviours!" He hit Raph's chest with his index finger, hard, and slouched down to meet Raph's level. "So get over yourself, and do the right thing, and bring him back here."

Anger finally getting the better of him, Raphael shoved Donnie to the ground and jumped on top of him, yelling before his mind could process it. Throwing a few punches, only the first hit Donnie's face as he quickly recovered and caught the other fist coming down, halting the third barely before it moved. He rolled the two of them over, creating a rough tussle in the pit, both of them fuelled by anger and frustration, throwing punches and kicks before the familiar thud of a cane on concrete halted their actions. _"Enough!"_ Splinter yelled across the main room, and the two boys split apart, chests heaving and glowering at one another. Leo stood beside their father, face aghast as he stared at his brothers.

" _What_ are you two _doing!?"_ He yelled, only walking towards them when Splinter did. The rat gestured for the both of them to sit on the couch in the pit, both huffing as they did. Raph glared at Donnie, while the taller ninja stared defiantly at the ground.

"Well?" Splinter prompted, voice sharp. 

"Ask Raphael." Donnie said, voice low and dangerous. "He's the one who started it."

"I wouldn'ta started it if you didn't talk about our baby brother like he had no brain cells!"

"You left for days without a single word!"

_"Silence!"_ Splinter shouted, rubbing at his eyes while the two boys settled down once again. "Raphael, you were with Michelangelo, yes?"

"Yes, Sensei." He muttered.

"And you left without so much as a word, and didn't take your phone with you so we had no way of contacting you."

"..Yeah." He mumbled. Leo sighed indignantly behind Splinter.

"After we solve the issue with your brother, Raphael, you will have to face punishment for your rash decisions."

Raphael only nodded, not meeting Splinter's eyes.

"Donatello."

Donnie hesitantly looked up at his father.

"What was it you were saying about your brother to make Raphael so upset?"

"Nothing, Sensei."

"Wasn't nothin', ya liar." Raph hissed. Donnie glared down at him. Splinter fixed him with an expectant look.

"Donatello?"

The purple-clad turtle averted his eyes, not responding. He was fidgeting with his hands, messing with the grease still there. Raph looked up at Splinter.

"He said that Mikey couldn't think for himself and didn't know how to take care of himself. So, according ta him, I shoulda dragged him back here with me whether he wanted it or not. Which he didn't." He said, eyes hard. Leo turned to look at Donnie, surprised.

"You do not actually believe this, do you?" Splinter asked, watching Donatello. Donnie gripped his hands in tight fists, debating internally on how to respond. He ended up only shrugging. Splinter sighed. "We will talk about this later, Donatello." At that he stood, and began walking toward the kitchen. "Breakfast will be ready soon, you three. Michelangelo will return when he is ready to."

Leo and Raph nodded, both heading to their respective rooms while Donnie sat on the couch, thinking. Raph had never reacted that strongly in defence of Mikey before. At least, he hasn't in a long time. Getting up, he made his way back to his lab. Something happened at that farmhouse, something very substantial between the two of them. Something he missed.

* * *

 Mikey was already sitting on the front steps of the farm house when he heard April's car rumbling up the road, and he didn't look up as he heard a car door slamming shut and soft footsteps coming up to him on the grass. There was something dark festering in the pit of his stomach, a deep anxiety that he's desperately trying to get the better of. The grass on his feet keeps him tethered as his mind keeps wanting to run in circles. He swallows as April sits down next to him.

"So, it's been awhile." She starts, tapping on her knee as she worriedly looks at the turtle next to her. He nods, still not looking up. "Do you.. want to come home yet?"

Theres a stillness in the air as he rolls the question over in his head. It isn't a matter of if he wants to- at least it isn't anymore- it's about if he _should_ , and it's a debate between the darker thoughts in his head and the logical ones. He sits quiet before April gently puts a hand on his shoulder.

"They need you, Mikey." She says, soft. " _We_ need you."

He looks up at her, the myriad of emotions tumbling through him evident on his face. He can't help but think of the conversations he had with Raphael, to the handful of times throughout their lives where they were as worried about him as he was for them. His throat was dry.

"I'll come back today." He said, voice quiet. April let out a sigh of relief, giving him a small side-hug before standing. He rose with her, stretching his arms above his head before following her quietly to Kirby's car. April smiled at Mikey, and he gave her a small smile back, nodding his head. They both climbed into the car, and Kirby didn't say a word as he backed out of the estate and down the desolate road back to New York City.

Mikey stared out the backseat window as they rumbled closer to home.

His home.

There were so many emotions running through him. He wasn't ready. Thinking about it, he probably would  _never_ be ready. If Michelangelo did not get it done with now, then he would constantly run himself in circles of fear and procrastination. More haunting ideas and predictions following his steps. He would continue to train on a hand-made dojo mat that dug so far into his flesh he could swear it was scratching his bone.

A passing thought goes through his head, as Kirby drives over a pothole and curses, that he's the fastest turtle in their group. Everyone had their strengths- Raphael was the strongest, Donatello was the smartest, Leonardo was the strategist, and Michelangelo was the fastest. It was a small bit of praise for himself that he had never thought about. Of course, being fast had it's perks, but it wasn't the most useful thing. All four of them were fast, it was part of being a ninja. A metaphorical theory clawed it's way up his throat and into his head, one whispering that he only got so fast because he always ran away from his problems. Ran away from feeling anything bad, ran from the opportunities to speak up for himself.

He shoved that thought down, bit down on his cheek to steel himself and stared at his hands sitting in his lap. Idly, he noticed he was in a perfect lotus pose-  _wouldn't Leo be proud_ \- and he told himself that he wasn't running anymore. Before, he stopped running away from himself; told himself that something was wrong and that it was okay to be wrong. Now, he wasn't running away from his family. He was, if anything, running  _towards_ them. Not ready, but willing.

That's what he had felt when they fought the Kraang, the times they fought the Shredder and his goons, all of the baddies that lurked in the shadows of the only home he had ever known. He wasn't ready, but he was  _willing._ And maybe he said wise cracks during battle to tame the anxiety and the overwhelming sense of _everything_ around him, but he still  _wanted_ to fight then, he  _wanted_ to protect his brothers, his _family_ \- and if he wasn't ready then, if he was underprepared and caught off guard almost every time, if he could still beat them because he and his brothers had  _willed_ it... then he could do this too. He wanted to talk to them, he wanted them to understand-- and even if he hated the changes, hated the routines being split in half like an old piece of wood,  _despised_ the way ordinary things built up and up and tore him apart inside but yet didn't affect his brothers-

He would will it to change. Because through change, things evolve. And through evolution, things _improve._

He glanced up now, looking out the window at the road disappearing behind them. Through that dark pit in his chest he felt the positivity break through, warm sunlight shining down through the dark leaves of tall, towering trees.

He smiled a small, genuine grin for the first time in a while. One just for him.

It was dark when they returned, and Kirby stopped outside of one of the less-shady alleyways in the city, giving the turtle a friendly pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before he got out. April gave him a strong hug before saying a small "I'm proud of you." He smiled back at her, and gave a nervous wave goodbye before slipping back down into the sewers he was so familiar with.

April sighed, dragging her hands down her face as she leaned against the car. Kirby poked his head out of the window, and gave her a worried look. "You okay, honey?" He called out, and she slowly got back into the passenger seat of the car.

"It's a bit relieving that this is over," She said, before looking back out to the manhole that her friend had just disappeared down. "But I'm still nervous for him."

"I understand," Kirby said, slinging an arm around her shoulders before placing a small peck on her head. "But I think you did a very good job handling all of this."

"Thanks, Dad." She said, trailing the cover with her eyes as they drove away, before it disappeared out of sight.

* * *

It was a long trek back to his home. Mikey had told them to drop him off at the closest sewer entrance he knew of, already feeling bad for imposing on them as much as he did. He kicked a rock over as he trudged on, trying to figure out what to say when he got home. He probably should have prepared in the car ride over instead of having so much internal speculation, but the past's the past. He tried to remember what his comic book heroes would do in situations like these, in big confrontations that would last several pages. But, as he tried to grasp at the memories, they seemed to disappear into the darkness surrounding him. He bit the inside of his cheek, chewing at the skin there in slight frustration. Instead, unbidden, an old scene from years ago came to his mind- one he had forgotten about.

_"I had a bad dream." Leo had admitted to him one night, both of them seven years old. Mikey was curled under his blankets, eyes wide in the dark as Leo lied down next to him, above the ratty covers._

_"Why'd you come here then? Why not Dad?" Mikey had asked._

Leo used to always do this, a nightmare plaguing him would force him to Mikey's small bedroom, sliding under his covers with nothing more than a quiet admittance of what had happened to a half-awake Michelangelo.

_But he didn't want to fall back asleep as if nothing happened this time, not when his oldest brother's actions were scaring him. Leo swallowed at the question. "He asks what they're about. You don't." He said, eyes averted but face still turned towards Mikey's. He didn't elaborate._

_"Leo." Mikey had whispered, clutching at his stuffed cat their father had found for him months ago._ One that had been lost for three years afterwards. _Mikey rolled the questions over in his head. The blankets lightly itched against his skin. "...Are you okay?"_

_He had seemed surprised at the inquiry, and in the dark Mikey could have sworn that his features softened at it, that the stern exterior he was starting to form was never there to begin with. It was quiet for a long time before he had whispered back, "No."_

_"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mikey asked, head softly hitting Leo's and resting there._

_"No."_

_There was movement under the sheets, and Mikey knew Leo was folding his arms, body scrunching in on itself, a reaction he did when he was scared._ Not anymore. _The pillow underneath his head was too smooth and it made him uncomfortable._

_"Leo, if you're ever really sad, or scared, you should tell me." Mikey said, voice quiet but the optimism still shined through. "I won't ask nothin', but I'll give ya a big hug until you feel better. Like I'm gonna do right now."_

_Leo didn't respond to that, instead just stilling when the smaller turtle nestled himself against his plastron. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around the younger turtle, a quiet noise of contentment escaping him. The feel of the others' brother comforted the both of them, and Mikey fell asleep before he had heard what Leo said back to him._

_In the morning, he remembers, Leo wasn't in the bed, and where he had been lying the night before was cold. The difference of temperatures bothered him, but when he sat at the breakfast table and saw Leo looking happier then he had in awhile, he knew he'd sleep in the most uncomfortable beds for the rest of his life if it meant keeping his brother happy._

He's leaning against the cold, slightly damp stone of the sewer as the weight of the memory worked through him. His breaths were shaky as he realized how much had changed between him and Leo since then- they used to sleep in each other's beds to find comfort. Now, when Mikey had needed that same comfort, he wouldn't have ever thought about going to Leo. Probably wouldn't have gone to  _anyone._

He shuts his eyes and takes a breath. He doesn't know why the memory overwhelms him as much as it does. The stark contrast, maybe? The suddenness of recalling it?

He continues walking forward through the cold sewer, trying his best to ignore the way the uneven stone dug into his feet. It didn't hurt, it never did, but he was acutely aware of each out-of-place pebble that stuck out more prominently than the rest. He took another breath. Staring resolutely forward into the dimly-lit tunnels, he walked forward, head held high. While the memory didn't do much to guide him on what to do now, it reminded him of the connections he used to have. The connections with his brothers he would have  _again._ The kind eyes of his father praising him.

It wasn't hard working his way back home, the tunnels were as familiar to him as his own shell. But he hadn't eaten before he left, and it was a long car-ride and an even longer walk. He swallowed against the uncomfortable feeling crawling up his throat from his stomach, and in a vain attempt to distract himself from all of the conflicting feelings from around his body, he started to hum a song he had wrote years ago; the  _only_ song he ever wrote. One, he remembers, that he wrote to distract himself from the fighting between Leo and Raph that only ever seemed to escalate. To vent to himself and explore the varying types of music that he liked. The lyrics escaped him in that moment, walking down a darker section of the sewer tunnel, but the melody was there and tangible enough that he can recognize it.

He wonders what his brother's would think about it. The song isn't anything special, but it was something he put time and effort into. Before this whole ordeal, he would be able to say with 100% certainty that they wouldn't give him the praise he was so desperate for. But now, with everything, he's unsure.

He thinks that they'd like it.

Eventually he can't hum the song anymore, having resorted to just looping the chorus since he couldn't remember the rest. The showtunes he had heard so much didn't appeal to him as much as they usually do, either, and so he contents to just walk in silence, listening to his quiet breathing and the ambience of New York's underground tunnels. He comes across old markings in the stone walls that were made when he and his brothers were young kids, new to the world and still learning how to walk and fight and express themselves. He comes across one that he doesn't remember, but recalls his father telling him about it much later. Four small hands, carved outlines to show how they were growing and to mark this place as a friendly territory to them, before they had the memory power to memorize the layout of the tunnels perfectly. Above the four, a larger hand was carved there, done by Splinter after his four sons urged him to join their own.

He squats down and lays his hand over his own marking, the smallest of all five. His palm completely covers it. He can't help but smile at that, the thought that he was once so small that he could probably completely hide himself behind his father. Behind Donnie too, when he thinks about it.

At that, his mood sours ever so slightly. Letting his hand fall back down to his side, he stands up and continues walking forward. Those markings mean that he's close to the lair. Close to the confrontation waiting to happen.

With baited breath, he sees the quiet light of his home far ahead of him.

* * *

It's eerily quiet in the lair. The TV is off, with Leo quietly sitting on the couch in front of it, trying to read one of the novels their family has collected over the years. He keeps finding himself rereading the same paragraph, however, as his thoughts kept drifting towards his youngest brother. His chest hurt whenever he went through the different possibilities, but he always tried to return his attention back to the book in front of him before he could spiral. Knowing that Raphael had seen him and spoken with him put him at ease, but it still hurt that it wasn't _him_ that had found him.

Raph refused to talk to either of his brothers about what had happened at the farmhouse, citing that it would probably be better if Mikey tells them himself. He did repeat that Mikey  _was_ coming back, but it was on his own terms, and if either of them had an issue with it he'd bust in their kneecaps. The same routine didn't work on Master Splinter though, and the two of them had had a long conversation in the dojo, Donnie and Leo sent away to their own devices while the talk happened so that they wouldn't eavesdrop.

He listened idly to the soft thumping and grunts of Raph pummelling the training dummy. Leo noticed that he wasn't going as hard as he usually was; the reason being lost on him. It was easy to watch his brother go through the repeated motions that they've been taught as he keeps going on the dummy. Leo isn't sure how long it's been before Raph stops and takes a final huff before turning around and making eye contact with his eldest brother. Leo tries to play it off as a quick glance up and back, but Raph is already walking towards him and sitting next to him. He doesn't say anything though, just quietly leans over and puts an arm around Leo's shoulder. He's surprised, to say the least, and is watching his immediate younger brother with wide eyes. Raph's gaze is stuck to the novel, squinting as he read through a portion of a page. "Why are you readin' this ol' thing?" He muttered, voice a bit rough. Leo blinked as he broke out of his daze and glanced back down at the story he was reading.

"Well, it was the first one I picked up, and I didn't really know what else to do today, so.." He shrugged, trailing off and closing the book. "I couldn't focus on it anyway."

He made to move off the couch, but the arm around his shoulders stayed, and weighed him down just enough that he didn't get up. He looked over, and Raph was staring at the dark TV, face tense and lips pressed together. Leo's about to ask what's wrong when Raph speaks up, gaze still off him. "You're worried."

It's a loaded statement. Everyone knew that Leo didn't like to admit he was stressed or worried; they all knew the kinds of backwards standards he held himself to. He knew it as well as they did. There are three ways he can answer this-- he can deny it, and have them both know he's lying, but cement the fact that he's too afraid of his image to admit worrying about a family member. He could agree with him, he can admit his worried and have an awkward moment pass through them. Or, he can say nothing, and have the statement be as open-ended as it was intended to be.

He takes a shaky breath that he hopes Raph doesn't notice, and stares ahead at the blank screen just as his brother is doing. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he overanalyzes the options, and he feels Raph shift against him. "..I am too."

At that, Leo looks at him again, face showing his surprise. "But you saw him, you- you _know_ he's fine."

"I know he's _physically_ fine." He grunts, removing his arm from around his older brother in favour of crossing them. "We both know why we're worried."

There's no  _I_ in that statement. It's plural, all inclusive, and Leo understands perfectly what he means and he isn't sure how he feels about it.

They sit there in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Raph having turned the TV on and quietly watching it as Leo thought about the situation in his head. He doesn't notice he'd started to lean against his brother until Donnie rushes into the room, expression wild and hands shaking where he stood, and Leo and Raph immediately stand up from the couch. Leo's hand itches to unsheathe his katana when he sees Donnie's bo staff strung to his back.

"What's wrong, Donnie?" He says, fast and all business. He can see Donnie swallow before he straightens up and looks frantically between his two brothers.

"It's- Mikey, he's.." He takes another deep breathe before continuing. "I saw him on the, uh, the camera systems."

He doesn't continue, and Leo's hands fall to his sides as a wave of relief goes through him, and he can see Raph do the same from his peripheral. When Donnie remains as tense as before, his eyes narrow slightly. "Isn't that a  _good_ thing?"

Donnie's face pales at the underlying accusation in Leo's tone, and before he can utter a word there's a creaking of old, rusted metal and their heads shoot to the entrance of the lair, where Mikey stands silently.

He's standing straight, pausing right in front of the turnstiles and looking at each of them warily. There's a thing layer of mud and gunk on his bare feet, and he looks like a lost little kid looking for his parents. There's fear in his eyes, and it only gets more cemented as he makes eye contact with Donnie. He gulps as they all stand in silence.

"Hey," he finally manages out, voice a bit rough and sticking inside his throat. Leo doesn't take his eyes off him as he starts walking forward, each step unsure, as if he expected the youngest to bolt if he went too quickly, or for him to disappear all together. It's a lot for both of them, and with each movement forward Leo can feel that mask of serious leader chip away until all of the emotions he shoved away inside him is bubbling up to the surface and he can feel his eyes start to tear up.

He's about to say something when Donnie sprints past him, and in the few seconds it takes for him to get to Mikey he realizes with a sinking feeling _why_ exactly Donnie had his bo staff with him.

Mikey makes a noise in the back of his throat as Donnie brings the wooden staff down onto his face, and he holds his snout and ducks low as Donnie stands above him, staff poised to strike again and fury emanating from him. His eyes are glaring daggers to the turtle below him and his teeth are grinding, his chest rising and falling quicker than should be healthy. There are emotions rolling through him that Leo can't discern and the fear that strikes in him makes him unsteady. He barely registers Donnie yelling at Mikey.

"You're such an  _idiot!_ _"_ He's berating him, bo lowering but still at the ready, instead an accusatory finger being pointed at him. "You overreact over the smallest things, and when we actually put our foot down you go ahead and run off to  _April's farmhouse!?_ Did you think at _all!?_ No, of course you didn't-"

He's just watching the scene play out, gaze slowly shifting from Donnie's unstable emotions spilling out to the quiet tears in Mikey's eyes, still holding onto his snout where a small, steady drip of red is now escaping it. He's not looking at anyone, just staring at the floor, and in his eyes Leo can see a resignation in them. For the first time he fully realizes the affect that this kind of behavior has on their youngest brother; has  _always_ had on him. Whenever the hand holding the bo staff shifts even slightly, there's a flinch and a blink of his eyes where they're shut tight for a moment longer than is natural. He never noticed the small, minute movements of the smallest turtle. He can feel himself already berating himself over it. Donnie's putting his bo staff back where it's typically held, and reaching out to grab onto Mikey's arm-- the orange turtle's eyes widening at the movement-- when there's a flash of red and Donnie's sprawled on his shell, holding onto his cheek with wide, angry eyes and is already sitting up, a dark noise growing in the back of his throat, Raphael standing in front of Michelangelo as if protecting something precious, and Mikey-

Mikey's staring up at him with such utter shock on his face that it snaps Leo back into the moment.

"What the hell's _wrong_ with you, Donnie!?" He screams, not knowing if he should move from his spot or not. "Why would you- why would you  _hit_ him like that? Why would you yell at him!?"

"Are you serious?!" Donnie yells back, pointing another finger at Mikey. "After what he did, you're not mad!?"

"I'm just happy to have my brother back!" Leo spits out, walking to where Mikey and Raph stand close together. "Can't you appreciate that fact?"

"I-" Donnie starts, but cuts himself off, throat going dry as the anger drains from his system, and the cold reality settles in on the situation. Mikey is  _back,_ and he's  _okay._ So why doesn't he feel as relieved as he should?

Mikey's staring at Leo with the same shocked expression he was just looking at Raph with, and when he slowly goes in for a strong hug, he shakily returns it. It's been awhile since he had any sort of physical affection from Leo, and the grounding hug he's giving him is doing a lot to settle his nerves, even if his nose is still steadily bleeding onto his shoulder.

Raphael just glares down at Donatello, smouldering daggers being shot down at him. It's a moment of eerie silence before Splinter is storming out of the dojo, ears flicked back and a stern look on his face he always gets when he hears his sons fight. "What is-" He starts, voice commanding before he lays eyes on Michelangelo, and his breath hitches before he's running towards his youngest son and wrapping him up in a warm, all-embracing hug.

"I'm sorry," Mikey blubbers out, his words quiet in the shoulder of his father, "I'm so sorry, father." He's crying, and it's a deep bawl that's shaking him to his core, his lungs protesting as he hiccups and wheezes in the safe arms of Splinter.

"Do not apologize, my beloved son," Splinter says quietly in his ear. "We should be the ones doing that."

"I.." Mikey starts, interrupted by another shuddering sob. "I love you, so much, I just couldn't handle it anymore-"

"I understand." Splinter murmurs, holding the little thing in his arms ever tighter as Leo stands to the side, feeling awkward and useless in the situation.

Behind them, down the steps, Raphael steps towards Donnie, a fire in his gaze that is unnerving to see set on one of his family members. There's a deep melancholy setting into Donnie's stomach and there's a subtle realization there, one he's afraid to acknowledge. Raph stands above him now, just glaring down and not offering any grounding hand to help him up. Donnie's eyes slide over to the terrifying face before him.

"What is wrong with you." It's a deep grumble, one that's more of a statement than a question. Donnie's breath keeps hitching in his throat and he knows it isn't healthy, leaning so close to the edge of a panic attack that he doesn't fully understand the source of.

"He's back," he mutters to his immediate older brother, eyes going back to the scene in front of them. His cheek still stings from the sucker punch Raph gave him moments earlier. "And we're all acting like it's okay."

"Nothin' about this is okay." Raph says, following his gaze to where Splinter is now holding Mikey in his arms as if he were a young child again. "But it's goin' to be."

Donnie doesn't know how to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so, it's done. it's finished. i have so many feelings about this fanfic because i poured so much of myself into it and my own insecurity, and i've never tried so hard to accurately represent a group of people before. as someone who struggles with a lot of mental health/disorder stuff, it's.. really important to have content where characters like me make it through everything. or something. idk. 
> 
> if you're Mad(tm) about how i left donnie at the end of the fic you should read the notes at the beginning cause uhh i explain stuff there
> 
> thank you to my friends who read this fanfic and were supportive (you know who you are!) and if you want me to write a one-shot or anything just let me know and i'll do it. im gonna be in TMNT Big Bang 2019 so u can expect another fanfic from me i have like a pretty solid idea for one lmao... yet again it is mikey centered fuck... he isnt even my favourite turtle what the hell...
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words and support on this fanfic. It means the world to me. if you want to support me, consider sending me a ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/sirwolficus or commissioning me.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at sirwolficus.tumblr.com! Comments are appreciated! Let me know if there are any typos or mistakes :) please and thanks


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